Eventide Angel
by Lacrow
Summary: To save the women bathed in white, the Reaper swore upon his scythe. For month's he's trained, it's time to strike, The Grim will lose his crown tonight.
1. Sharpen the Blades of your soul

**Disclaimer: **This is an AU fanfic, sequel to my other fic White Haired Reaper. Any and all credit goes to the respective owners, I do not own Soul Eater

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**Eventide Angel**

**by. **Lacrow

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**Chapter One**

**-Sharpen the Blades of your soul-**

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They came into town as if nothing were out of the ordinary. But for the people who lived in this rundown village of needles, probably nothing could've been farther from the truth.

He had no way of knowing just what exactly was running through these villagers minds as they walked in, through the imaginary front door of a place they'd practically owned some two months before. The looks on their faces was anything but welcoming and he could tell just from the fear in their eyes that there would be no welcoming for them. High above them, the sun beat down on the lowly group of four heralds as they continued their miserable trek into what was now enemy territory. Their mission was simple and clear, hopefully without any resistance.

That's what his superior told him, the man with the shaggy hair who headed the operation. He was supposed to be strong; at least that's what the other man told him, the Reaper with a bandage over his left eye. So far he seemed to be right, since they were still alive and walking through Needle Village unharmed. But he knew that Dengu Dinga, personal assassin to Lord Grim, wasn't even one of _those_Reapers; he didn't eat souls like the bandaged man did. In fact, none of the others did including himself. The weak one. The skinny one. Why The Grim even put him on this mission was a mystery to the boy in black and the more he thought about it, the more he scratched his messy pink hair in confusion. He didn't like not knowing things. He didn't know how to deal with it.

This sun made everything hot and being hot wasn't good before a fight. But they weren't fighting yet, even though Lord Grim said they would be. Did he lie to them when he sent them out here? In a blazing desert, sand as far as the eye could see, there wasn't anyone out here except the villages. All the Grigories already belonged to The Grim, except for the ones living here. That's why they were there...right? Find the Reaper that wasn't a Reaper anymore and kill him. Then find his friend who befriended a Reaper and kill him too...right? Did he get any of that right...?

"Crona, stay focused." Out in front, the leader named Dengu gave a stern warning, "If we mess this up, our title as the new Spartoi will be worth nothing."

Behind the others and already weary, the young Reaper swallowed the growing lump in his throat and nodded to an audience of no one. The only ones truly paying attention to him were the scared onlookers that watched them walk through the village, most of them through the windows in the shacks they called homes. Turning this way and that, Crona looked and frowned at the commotion they caused; all of this attention wasn't good for a sneak attack. Then again, he didn't even know if that's what they were doing. Nobody told him anything important, because he wasn't important.

Cannon fodder. That's what one of the other men called him as they walked through the sandy streets, cannon fodder. His laugh was muffled by his cloak, but even then Crona didn't like it when people laughed at others for no reason like that. Was there something funny about this situation that he didn't understand? Maybe it was because he'd only just become a Reaper, he wasn't old like the other ones. In fact, Mr. Dinga was an old acquaintance of the man they were sent to kill. And that man was...two hundred years old? He must look so clammy...

"Why is nobody attacking us, sir?" Crona piped up from behind, twiddling his thumbs under the gazes of so many frightened people.

Dengu shook his head and tossed the young Reaper a glance. "Because they're just Grigories, whelp. The only one you have to worry about is the Azure Knight."

Crona looked down at the sand and gulped yet again; he'd forgotten the Azure Knight. That was the other man they were tasked with killing, him and the Reaper named Eater. But hadn't he already said that? Did it matter since all this was in his head? All these thoughts, it hurt his brain. The boy grabbed his head and shook it feverishly, groaning to himself as the others rolled their eyes. They didn't like it when he started doing things like these, they said it was a mistake to bring him along. He couldn't help it though. Just like the man in bandages said, he was mad.

Still preoccupied with the bizarre conflict happening within his own skull, the pink haired soldier continued to trudge without even realizing the others had stopped. Attention elsewhere, he ended up smacking into the men in front of him as they'd come to a dead halt outside a house in the middle of the village. They hissed at him to watch where he was going, and as he fell to the ground poor Crona got the picture. He shook himself out of the trance-like state he found himself in and turned his eyes towards the imposing structure before them.

If he wasn't already on his butt, he would have fallen on it anyway. It wasn't big like The Grim's mansion back in Death, but it was still a whole lot better than any of the other buildings surrounding them. And the weird part was, it kind of looked like it was stitched together with...well, stitches. He couldn't believe that something could exist in a place like this dried up old desert, much less in Needle Village where everything was supposed to be rundown. In fact, it slightly scared him; how was he supposed to deal with something like this? He couldn't.

It wasn't possible. "Mr. Dinga! Is this where they're staying?"

"I guarantee you not for much longer," the leader rumbled, his voice smooth and hard as rock.

Crona picked himself up and dusted the sand off his clothes. "But I don't even know how to fight! I don't know how I can help-!"

"-Just stay out of our way," Dengu commanded, motioning for the others to take their positions. "So long as the job gets done, we might let you take some credit."

Two of the men went around the sides of the house, both their faces hidden behind white satin cloth. They folded their arms and remained steadfast in case of their target's escape, while their leader, Dengu, took point at the doorstep. Totally emotionless and seemingly afraid of nothing, the tall Reaper made his way towards the door in confident strides. Stuck at the sidelines, Crona watched his superior take a solid fist and slam on the door so hard he was afraid it would eventually fall over. It continued for longer than what was appropriate, but after a few minutes of unceasingly beating on the thing, Dengu finally stopped. Immediately he hopped backwards and readied himself for anything, as if the Reaper who wasn't a Reaper anymore would actually answer.

To Crona's dismay, he didn't. _"The hell's with all the noise! It's half-past noon, people are trying to sleep!"_

Lord Grim's heralds all snapped to attention as the door suddenly flew open, revealing a shabby looking man wearing not much on besides some cloth underwear that had seen one too many days. In utter horror, Crona turned the other way as his face quickly boiled bright red. He couldn't see the other Reaper's reactions since they wore those hoods, but just by the way they cringed too he knew they were mortified as well. Even stalwart Dengu, the newly christened member of the once infamous Spartoi, shuddered at the sight of it all.

"I take it..._you're_the Azure Knight?" the lanky man asked, who by now had already collected himself. "The blue hair on your head is a dead giveaway-"

"-No fucking shit, genius! You Reapers are all getting dumber by the day, I swear. At least the ones from a couple months back didn't make this much noise right before I killed them..."

Reluctantly, Crona slowly forced himself to turn back to the Azure Knight out of curiosity. He wanted to see what kind of man could kill dozens of Lord Grim's most powerful soldiers, Soul Eaters, like they were nothing more than flies. Despite that, he still found himself red in the face at the sight of the nearly naked man and cringed the entire time he looked him over. Solid muscle was the only way to describe the Grigori, which was a far cry from every other he'd seen before. Though still young compared to everyone else, he knew that Grigories were nothing more than food for Reapers to become stronger. They were supposed to be weak, defenseless, which is why Lord Grim didn't have any trouble controlling the twenty or so villages throughout the desert.

But this man was different. He wasn't very tall, especially when standing right next to Dengu, but there was this strange look to his eyes that Crona couldn't understand even if he wanted to. It was like despite being surrounded on all sides by Reapers sent to kill him, there wasn't an ounce of fear anywhere in those green pupils of his. In fact, it was almost like he _enjoyed_ having this much attention on him, and it was for that reason that Crona couldn't comprehend this man. In what point would there be to make oneself known? It didn't make sense.

"Before I rip your spine out, tell me where Eater is hiding." Dengu commanded with a resonating rumble, "Don't test my patience. We'll find him either way."

The Azure Knight raised a brow, taken aback for a second. Then without warning his face erupted into a devious smile, "You honestly think he's hiding?"

"Tell me where the traitor is, Black of the Star Clan. Members of Spartoi are obligated to deal with their own," the Reaper growled, confident.

"Members of Spartoi...?" he repeated, slowly coming to some sort of realization. "Sounds interesting. Soul would love to talk to you."

"Then tell us where he is dammit! I'm getting sick of this bullshit-!" Dengu started to shout, right before something cut him off.

And at the sight of his leader being pounced on by a streak of white, Crona suddenly found his voice. "Mr. Dinga!"

It happened so fast, he didn't know to deal with it. The others should have caught it too, but even they didn't even realize what was happening until there was a miniature plume of sand that flew into the air. Two bodies fell to the ground, with Dengu being the one pinned down by an imposing figure hunched over him. The Reaper stuck his tongue out as he choked, desperate for air as whatever it was clenched around his throat with eager hands. Crona screamed for his superior as he suddenly got a flash of the attacker's face, because whoever it was frightened him like nothing else.

Teeth, fangs, whatever they were, lined up neatly in his jaws. So sharp, it looked to him like they could even cut steel without a problem. Eyes redder than blood shifted in the man's head, zeroing in on his captured prey and boring holes into Dengu as he gave him a nightmarish glare. That expression alone was enough to make anyone quake with fear, but maybe the scariest thing to Crona was that hair of his; snowy and fair, so white that clouds must have been jealous of him. That in itself was the final straw for the young Reaper, because even though he wasn't smart like the others he knew exactly who this person was. He'd heard stories about him. Heard the things he did a long time ago. Heard what he did to people he didn't like.

He took out their soul and ate it in front of them.

The White Haired Reaper, that's what they called him.

Lord Grim's strongest, his name was Eater. Now he remembered. The one person who made The Grim mad enough to become the first Reaper exiled in shame, it was this man hovering over his superior that they were supposed to kill. Crona couldn't stop shaking, his entire body locked in place as stressful tears started to well up in his eyes. There was no way to kill somebody like that, not even for Mr. Dinga. And as the other men ran towards him in a desperate scramble, the young Reaper already knew where things were headed. He was distraught.

"Dengu Dinga, the hell are you doing here?" the white Reaper asked briskly, still clamping down hard on his victim's throat.

Trying to say something, Crona's superior choked only a few words. "Lord Grim...! He appointed...Spartoi, me-!"

"-Yeah, I heard that part," Eater cut him off as he leaned down to growl in Dengu's ears. "Don't care."

It looked like he was about to say more, but his time talking was cut short as the other men came towards them quicker than lightning. Slightly surprised, Eater promptly released his prey before spinning around to face the oncoming Reapers. He just stood there with his hands at his sides, making a point to not even raise a finger. Crona thought for sure their mission was already going to be over, but again he was proven wrong when both men threw their punches at the white Reaper. With calculating eyes, Eater displayed why all their efforts were useless.

Twisting his body in the subtlest way possible, it seemed as though he hadn't moved at all. The punches flew towards either side and missed him completely, albeit it with just inches to spare. Dengu's men froze in place, realizing immediately the amount of trouble they were in. And as they raised their heads in unison to find terrifyingly sharp teeth grinning back at them, there was little more they could do to defend themselves from a counterattack. Without warning, Eater snatched them up from the ground and hurled the two across the sand as if they weighed nothing. Crona's knees rattled as his comrades flew by him, their groans of pain as they smacked against soft earth making the young Reaper pray with everything he had that he wasn't next.

"I'll take care of them, Black Star," the monster of a man called back to his friend, almost casually. "Tell Stein I'll keep them from fucking up his house, alright?"

"Yeah whatever you say, Soul. I'll tell him after I wake up in another three hours," Black Star answered back, waiving him off as he started off inside.

Watching the Azure Knight leave, the Reaper who wasn't a Reaper anymore made a disgusted face. "And put some pants on for god's sake!"

Without looking back, Black of the Star clan flipped his nagging friend the bird and slammed the door shut behind him as he disappeared inside. Left standing there, Eater gave a bitter scowl before turning his attention back to the four heralds. Among them was Crona who, still following orders, kept far behind the others as they quickly regrouped in front of him. Dengu scrambled up from the ground and spat dryly, followed by his back up who jumped up on their feet and made a v-formation pointed towards their target. None of them injured, save of course their pride.

The youngest of the gathering watched, mesmerized, as the White Haired Reaper wasted no time in getting things started. His attitude completely shifted, the air around him suddenly becoming much more serious at the disappearance of all emotion from his face. He raised his arm, hand out and palm up, then without a word summoned the weapon that had made him a living legend. With a crack of white light that snaked from the Reaper's chest, it quickly gathered in his grasp and solidified into the shaft of a scarlet bladed scythe. Crona gaped at its beauty, nothing at all like what he'd been told it was supposed to look like; nobody ever said anything about gold around the head of it, or just how sharp and deadly it looked even from so far away!

It was so intimidating, the inexperienced soldier had no idea how to respond. He just stood there and shook, wanting to step away but not even having the courage to do that. Instead, the others responded for him. No hesitation in their movements, the other three Reapers summoned their weapons as well. For the silent pair, both summoned steel claws on opposite arms that matched the others. They gleamed silver, ornately carved, more than likely being twins underneath their covers as well. At the same time, Dengu displayed why he was in charge. To his left hand, a crack of golden light formed into the shape of an odd-looking ax. Instead of a blade at the end of it, three solid prongs formed its shape. At its base, a jagged and ornate hilt.

"That's not the same scythe from a hundred years ago, Eater!" the tall Reaper boomed, sounding almost offended. "Your soul has changed, hasn't it? You're weaker now!"

Still in a state of utter calm, the white Reaper brought his scythe out to the side and looked it over himself. "Lots of things have changed, Dengu. But if you think I'm weak, I'll prove you wrong."

"By orders of Lord Grim, for consorting with the Eventide Angel," Dengu began to recite, ignoring his target's widening eyes. "We're going to finish what should have been done a long time ago."

For the first time, Crona understood what it meant to be a soldier. The air around him whipped into a frenzy and second later he gasped in amazement when everyone in front of him disappeared into ethereal nothing, the sand where they stood thrown up high into the sky with such force that it blotted out the sun. He shielded his eyes as debris pelted his face, along with the onlookers of people far behind him that weren't smart enough to take shelter earlier. All of them were now at the mercy of four very powerful creatures, and the young Reaper wasn't sure if they would pay enough attention to avoid hurting any of them as they fought. At the moment, all he could do was try and keep up with battle taking place right before him, so fast it was barely able to be seen.

In a cloud of sand, the white Reaper dashed back and forth as his attackers followed suit. Their weapons drawn, the twin Reapers chased him down on either side and lunged with metallic claws extended. With ease, Eater looked back and forth between the both of them and threw his scythe around as if it weighed nothing, his ability to defend far surpassing theirs to assault. They grew desperate as their claws bounced off without doing damage, and quickly they took to jumping in the air and alternating their sides in an effort to throw him off.

With a scowl, he took his foot and stuck the ground. A skid of sand trailed as he came to a dead stop, the others finding out too late that their target was now behind them until was already too late. By the time they came to a stop and spun around to dash back, they witnessed with eyes wide as saucers as Eater met them face to face. Such a cold face, they had no way of knowing just went through his mind as he took his scythe and brought it from the ground. In an arc of shining white, the scarlet scythe drew its first blood for the first time in months.

"Pillar in the dark," he whispered to himself as his blade slashed through flesh, screams drowning out the air around him. "Under-Arc Hunter."

Needle Village erupted into a giant plume of light, forcing everyone including Crona to shield their eyes once again. The lone Reaper's screams came to a halt as his body split in two, none of it being seen by anyone save for the cause of it all. By the time everyone returned to their senses and the white Reaper disappeared yet again, only one of the twin attackers was left standing. His entire body frozen, he alone dared to look down at the bloody heap of clothing next to him. He nearly gagged at the sight, and threw his head back to shout for Dengu to avenge his brother.

Absent the entire time, Crona's leader finally made his appearance. Out of nowhere he emerged from the shadows, perched atop one of the rickety shacks like a buzzard to the smell of rotted meat. As if waiting for something, he crouched there patiently and looked with pity at the remains of what was one of his comrades. Not a second later, as he muttered something to himself about revenge, his prey came to him right on schedule. Dengu turned his head to the side, at the same time a certain white haired man suddenly materialized right before him. The look of surprise across Eater's face was so noticeable that Mr. Dinga broke his grim face for a moment to sneer haughtily, already pointing his ax his soon-to-be victim.

"No matter how strong you are, you were always so predictable." The Grim's herald popped to his feet, back straight as he leered down at him.

Eater's surprise only lasted a second before regressing into another one of his angry scowls, "Don't talk to me like you're my equal!"

"I'm your superior!" Dengu hissed, this time breaking all his composure as he lunged forward with his ax to finish things.

The white Reaper stepped backward, his feet instinctively knowing where to land on such a narrow roof. His scythe came to defense once again, a technique he'd learned after months of training with its new form. As Dengu threw all his weight into a two-handed strike, Eater brought his blade around the side like a windmill. At the perfect time he struck, just the right spot where he could knock both ax harmlessly to the side with Dengu along with it. Eyes wide, Crona watched their leader made the exact same expression as their prey suddenly became the attacker.

As Dengu fell to the side, the White Haired Reaper swung his leg around and brought a crushing blow to the bastard's face. He watched with stoicism as the lanky Reaper reeled and flew off the side of the shack, ending with a soft thud from the sands below them. Not missing a beat, Eater hopped over his scythe and followed to chase after him. It was like they were both reading each other's minds, because no sooner had Dengu recovered and hopped back to his feet that The Grim's strongest was standing right there behind him. He already knew where he'd be.

"I don't care for this game you're playing," Eater growled in the man's ear, so close his breath brushed against skin. "I never cared for titles."

Mr. Dinga made a pained sort of face. "You're a fucking hypocrite! That's why you ate those souls back then, to become the strongest!"

"Tell me why you called her that," the Reaper ignored him. "If he's doing something to Maka, I'll drag him back to hell with me!"

"I'm going to send you back empty handed, Eater!" Dengu roared back, summoning his ax again as he spun around attack.

Crona, the villagers, everyone watching, they stood in awe as a fight broke out between two men that transcended what was supposed to be real. Every step they took, every swing of their blades, it sent shock waves throughout the tiny village and the earth beneath them. As Dengu swung, the sheer force of his missed attacks sent canyons of sand in different directions. Two shacks on either side became obliterated almost instantly, no one thankfully inside. Meanwhile, Eater dodged them all. His dexterity had improved somewhat, and his control over the scythe was unmatched.

He used all of these to his advantage. At every opportunity he could make, he would cut Dengu off at the pass and stop his attack before it could even be launched. With the few seconds of time that gave him, he would bring his foot up and stamp him in the chest. It wasn't enough force to hurt the slender Reaper, but that wasn't the point. Calm and collected, Eater watched carefully as Dengu's temper only increased with each missed attack and every kick to his torso. He was being taunted and it pissed him off to no end, which translated into more powerful strikes of his ax. More sand kicked up, more earth destroyed, and every time he swung Eater found it harder and harder to parry his blows. But as Dengu's strength grew, so too did his sloppiness.

His stance was off, his movements were too blunt. Sure he was powerful, more so that most Reapers, but his pride was his biggest weakness. Eater knew this and after minutes of blow-for-blow combat, his old acquaintance finally made a mistake. His ax came down just a hairsbreadth to the side, but for the white Reaper it was enough. In an instant, he brought his scythe up to knock the weapon out of his hand. The blade made a whistling sound as it flew through the air, followed by a sharp clang as steel met itself. Dengu watched, in horror, as his weapon left him.

It unceremoniously fell to the ground. Just a simple thud would be the sound of the Reapers death, because Eater wasted no time. Crona saw everything play out from his lookout point, his eyes wanting to water but something in the air just wouldn't allow it. Maybe it was just pure fascination of what was to come, when The Grim's Strongest brought his scythe out in front of him and held it straight up towards the sun like a staff. Only instead of striking, he just held onto it a strange stance; arms horizontal, his palms open as if ready to hold on tight.

"I'll show you why nobody can have my empty seat on Spartoi," Eater cautioned, his eyes suddenly turning a bright crimson. "Why only Soul Eaters have the strength to be called monsters."

That feeling Crona had, the fascination of what was to come, was quickly satisfied. On the one hand it was horrific, just the sheer speed and strength in which it all took place. Most of him wanted to scream and heave up last night's dinner, because just how quickly his leader was ripped to shreds would be enough to make anyone sick. But what scared Crone truly was the fact that part of him actually liked seeing it, that moment when the White Haired Reaper took his scythe and, in a single motion that nobody besides a Reaper could see, slashed in the form of a hexagram all along Mr. Dinga's body. Such a thing was impossible, to get a scythe moving quickly enough to slash someone so many times as they ran past them, but he did. Somehow, Eater did it.

"Assault on six sides," the Reaper recited to himself tiredly, as a heap of bones and flesh turned to dust right behind him. "Hexagonal Hunt."

Staring out into an empty desert, Dengu's face changed not a degree. He was emotionless, hollow, as if his spirit was already dead and buried. The only thing he did, just before collapsing to the ground, was look down at what was left of his body. Like Eater's scythe was cursed, every point on his body that had come into contact with it turned to a dry, ebony sand. No pain, no feeling of any kind, Dengu simply accepted his fate without a word. Crona watched with no emotion as his superior fell and died right there. Nobody said a word, since nothing would have been appropriate anyway.

The white Reaper didn't try to look at the dead man. All he did was look up to the sky and sigh, his body tired from using the techniques he hadn't yet fully mastered. Scythe at his side, he shook his head and threw the weapon over his shoulders. Crona, numb from everything and silently scarred, just stood there and watched Eater turn towards him. The latter made an interested face, brow raised in earnest as he looked the boy over. Finding something in the young Reaper, he made his way toward him casually as if never having killed two men in the past ten minutes.

With his free hand, he dug into his pant pocket in search of something. "You were tagging along with them, right?"

"M-Me?" Crona suddenly piped, his heart pumping back to life when Eater nodded. "Yes! I mean, no! Mr. Dinga told me to stay!"

"I can hear your soul," he replied calmly, the exhaustion clear and heavy on his voice. "It's different from the others. I think I can trust you-"

Eater suddenly stopped dead in his track, something capturing his attention enough to cause those blood red eyes of his to open wide. Crona cocked his head to the side in confusion, not knowing why he froze like that. Then all of a sudden he felt it too; he was a young Reaper, but even he could tell when another was in the area. His brain finally kicked into gear and he realized who it was, the last remaining herald. The brother of the twin that Eater had killed was still alive, and for some really strange reason Crona wished that he wasn't.

At that same thought, the sand behind the white Reaper erupted like a geyser. He had no time to react, only enough to spin around and gaze into the eyes of the claw-armed assassin as he lunged like a giant cat ready to mall and kill. Eater's face twisted in an angry panic, his body in no shape to make a last ditch effort to escape. The Reaper knew this and put his all into a strike aimed right at his target's face, a look of furious blood-lust just underneath his cloak. For one second there, Crona was actually afraid this legend was going to die right before his eyes.

But he didn't. _"I can't sleep with all this noise just outside my window."_

Blood splattered all over Eater's face, though none of it was his own. In front of him hovered the would-be killer, the light gone from his eyes and body limp as out from his torso jetted out a rusted blade. Its wielder, a familiar half-naked man still suspiciously pant-less, kept the corpse in the air with only one arm. The white Reaper sighed in relief, with Black Star giving him a look of sheer annoyance. Effortlessly he tossed the now dead assassin away like trash and the old sword along with it, all so casually that Crona couldn't understand just how nonchalant these two men could be.

"And you tell me I'm the immature one? Stein told you not to overdo it on the scythe moves, Soul." Black Star grunted, picking at his ear lazily.

Eater, _Soul,_gave a toothy grin with just as much laziness. "That's the thing about training, you always have to push yourself a little bit farther each time."

Black Star only gave a shrug and shook his head, waving off his friend to finish things. Silently, the Reaper agreed and turned his attention back to Crona, who at the point in time was still trying to figure out just who these people were. They were so abnormal, so powerful, but the way they acted was nothing the young soldier had ever seen before. Reapers were all proud and stiff, and Eater was supposed to be all of those things a hundred times over. But he didn't know how to deal with this Reaper who wasn't a Reaper anymore, because he acted nothing like what he was expecting. The man with the bandage over his eye warned him he had to kill this person, that he was dangerous to The Grim and the world. But slowly, Crona started to realize maybe they were wrong-

"-I've got something for you," a familiar drawl snapped the young Reaper from his thoughts. "I need something done and you're the only one who can do it."

Crona snapped to attention, his face flustered red with embarrassment. "Y-You need something from me? But, I'm supposed to kill you...I mean!"

He didn't know what to say or do; nobody had prepared him to actually fight with anyone, let alone talk with the enemy like this. He was just supposed to be cannon fodder, an able body that was good at taking up space and nothing else. That's all he was, and yet Crona felt slightly different when he gathered enough courage to look this Soul person in the eyes. Red stared back at him, but it wasn't the scary crimson that he'd seen during the fight. Instead, he found a hardened face with a soft expression looking back at him. Those sharp teeth weren't twisted into a scowl, but a tired grin that only confused Crona even more. It was the grin that broke him down, and finally convinced the useless soldier that whatever Eater had to say, it was worth listening to.

"Okay..." he relented after staring awkwardly for longer than necessary, ducking his head in a sad attempt to hide.

Soul raised a brow and smiled. At the same time, he pulled out something from his pocket. "Take this book for me, would you?"

"...A book?" Crona perked slightly, just enough to take the thing and look at its cover. "Why are you giving me a book? Is it important?"

Didn't look like it, at least not to him. More of a journal than anything else, the binding seemed solid enough at least. Crona wasn't much of a reader, but even then he felt like something about this book was special. There was no title on the front, only what looked like an author in gold print; Eibon. The pages seemed worn, like someone had been flipping through them for months on end. Notes stuck out that a person had placed inside, keeping track of something important that he didn't have the time to figure out.

The white Reaper nodded. "Keep it hidden. When you return to Death, find a woman named Maka. Tell her it's from me."

"Do you mean the Eventide Angel? I can't do that!" Crona gasped, frantically waving his arms out in front of him. Soul of course frowned.

"I'm not asking you to lie, go ahead and tell The Grim," he shrugged, slightly annoyed. "I don't care, just make sure she gets it. Do it and I'll owe you anything."

Crona suddenly stopped his frantic denial and thought about things for a second; a favor from the White Haired Reaper? One of the strongest people in the desert, maybe even the _world?_No matter the reservations he had about talking with the enemy, something like this couldn't be passed up. He was young not stupid, and looking at the little book in his hands Crona figured that such a simple task could be done easily enough. Nothing to worry about, right? The more he thought about it, the better things started to sound in his already messed up little head.

Probably Soul figured he won the boy over, since already he was holding his hand out for him to take. Crona looked at it, then up at him, then back down to the hand again. It was now or never and the longer he waited, the more people started to come out of their shacks to see if the coast was clear. So many onlookers, Crona couldn't handle all the attention. He wanted to disappear as quickly as he'd come, so swallowing the lump in his throat he took Soul's hand and shook on things. Now, he was bound to this favor. No backing out, his life was to this man...the hell had he just done?

"Good, now get the hell outta here." Eater told him flatly, retracting his hand into his pocket. "We've got a lot of cleaning up to do."

Crona's face grew bright red again as he looked around and noticed broken shacks and pissed off faces. "Oh, right. Whatever you say, Mr. Eater..."

Soul snorted, but waved the boy off without saying a word. He turned around and hobbled off to meet back with his waiting friend who, Crona was dismayed to find, still didn't have any pants on. Not having any reason to stick around either, and with an entire village of curious people ready to start asking him questions, the little Reaper slowly turned around to make his way out of there. Along the sandy road towards the desert, a million different things ran through his head. The compelling promise he'd made a fugitive, the death of his superiors and fellow soldiers. None of it made sense, and Crona supposed it never would. No amount of time would make any of this sound right, but strangely he was okay with that. Sort of at least, somewhat...

_"Hey, new blood!"_ he heard Soul call out to him yet again, his voice far off at this point. "_Tell me something! Why does everyone I talk to call Maka the Eventide Angel?"_

Crona's head popped up and he turned around, finding Eater and Black Star there where he left them. "I uh, I don't know! They...they just do! She's famous!"

Then all of a sudden it disappeared. All the doubt, all the confusion, the worry, it vanished with Soul's reply. "..._Just do me another favor, okay? Please, watch over her till I get there."_

Something clicked in the young Reaper's head, the way that man spoke making him freeze for a second and stare at the fugitive he was sent to kill. Maybe it was the softness, that slightly desperate lilt in his request, that made Crona agree to him yet again. He found himself waving to the man, despite not even having done so before. Soul seemed just as surprised as him, and with a confused sort of smile waived him off yet again. It wasn't a friendly goodbye, Crona could tell that much; it was his way of being polite and hurrying him along, like a school child.

But he didn't mind at all, in fact he obliged by turning around without stalling any longer. Without a sound, he made his trek back towards the open desert and hoped to find the Runaway Express before sundown. By then, he could get back to Death and report everything to Lord Grim. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset with him, although The Grim never liked it when one of his Reapers was killed...he didn't know how to deal with an angry god and hopefully would never need to. Maybe just being alive would be enough to keep him happy? Maybe. Probably. Hopefully.

At this point in his ranting, Crona was already outside the village. He didn't realize it until a buzzard flew above him and cawed, making his head snap towards the direction of the noise which was slightly behind him. The sight of tiny shacks made him think about the Reaper named Soul all over again, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wouldn't be the last time they'd meet. Especially not when he made such a promise to a total stranger, though Crona knew right away he couldn't help it. There were so many things he didn't know, things no one would tell him since he was so young. A tiny part of him wanted to find out more and, despite being the ever cautious soldier, that tiny part ended up taking charge. He wanted to discover the world, just a little bit of it at least.

But mostly, he wanted to know why that man looked so sad when he mentioned Ms. Maka's name.

* * *

**A.U**

So it's finally here! I promised it would be out before summer, but I guess being right on the dot works too. In any case, I'm gonna have a full workload this time around, with two ongoing fics, school, and looking for a job, but hopefully I can manage. I'll trying to get the next chapter out asap, in the meantime please read my other fics until then while I try to get that out in a timely manner.


	2. Three Hearts, Three Bodies

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**-Three hearts, Three Bodies-**

* * *

Dusk falling on the desert as he rode the express train to Death, the youngest Reaper in Lord Grim's army couldn't help but stare out the window and sigh again at just how much more complicated his life had become in the past few hours. The entire trip through nightfall his head swirled with so many questions that would fail to be answered, even upon his inevitable arrival and subsequent debriefing at the hands of the man with the bandage over his eye. All this, an encounter with the legendary White Haired Reaper, and a simple pat on the head for a congratulations caused something to stir in the boy. As his superior, commander of the first Reaper army in over one hundred years, began to lead him through the halls of Gallows Manor, Crona's curiosity got the better of him.

And so he asked. Why was he sent there? For what purpose was there that Dengu Dinga, perhaps the strongest man who wasn't a Soul Eater, needed any kind of help from him? He was barely three months young, a blink of the eye for someone like Commander Free. Nothing he could do would be of use to anyone, not even if he was _cannon fodder_ like everybody kept on saying. And just what was going on that he couldn't understand? How come The Grim wanted his strongest person dead, and why did that same man go through all the trouble of asking him about a girl named Maka?

It was at that moment Crona's superior stopped, so suddenly that the boy ended up bumping into him without even noticing. At first he thought he'd said something wrong, and immediately the lack of confidence in him suddenly came to the surface again. He waived his hands in front of him and blushed as he apologized over and over again, convinced that he'd just gotten in the worst graces of The Grim's right hand man. But just as quickly as he begged for forgiveness, he froze and stared at Commander Free as he turned around.

On his face, a grin Crona had seen somewhere before. On Eater, when he talked to his friend with blue hair. It was strange seeing that expression again, the same emotions behind it along with the exact same sharp teeth. They were both Soul Eaters, meaning they both had the same characteristics that all of them shared; strong bodies, razor-like fangs, eyes that could bore holes into you if they looked at you long enough with them. Then of course there was a tiny detail nobody took the time to notice, Crona didn't know if it was all Soul Eaters or just Sparto; they all had spiky hair.

"Looks like the pup's ready to learn," Free sneered cheerily, ruffling up his subordinate's hair like an older brother. "Follow me."

He didn't wait for him before taking off, almost like the man had figured out how to sprint and walk at the same time. Crona panicked, taking off after him to keep up as Free started to explain things he couldn't hear. The boy caught up a minute later and sighed in relief, since he knew there'd be no way his commander would repeat himself. He was a good man, a powerful Reaper, very wise too. But he was...eccentric? Was that the right word? No, that was much too stuffy for him. Insane would probably fit better, but not that strong. Just a little bit nuts.

As they walked through Gallows Manor, Lord Grim's personal home and makeshift headquarters for the Reaper army, Free explained things in such detail that Crona wondered why none of this was mentioned to him before. Whether it was his age or whatever, he felt slightly betrayed not knowing why this war was being fought before being sent out to die for it. But that was then and this was now, so Crona bit his tongue bitterly and nodded as his superior went on without ever looking back. It was like he was reciting it all from memory, as if he'd seen all of it himself.

One hundred years ago, there were people who defied death. They used magic to free themselves of the obligation they had to the rest of the world, the expectation that once somebody dies, they must return to the earth and make room for the next generation. As the guardian of that balance, The Grim ordered these people exterminated. Thus was the first war that humans never saw, a battle in the shadows for control over the laws of nature. It lasted only several years, by which time all these rebels called Witches had been forced to serve their obligation permanently.

It was only possible because of three men. One of them a Reaper like any other, the other a psychotic lapdog, and finally the precursor of all Reapers after him. The latter two were Soul Eaters, so powerful and privileged that they alone held the rank of Spartoi. The first was nothing special; he was strong, but nowhere near the level that his other comrades were. However his position as Lord Grim's bodyguard became an issue and his relationship with the court's assassin made the situation even more complicated. He couldn't protect the people close to him with the power he had, not when there were still people and enemies much stronger than himself. With a war raging and the Reapers around him becoming restless, he did what he felt was right.

At this point Crona knew the rest, but listened intently with wide eyes all the same. He held his breath as Free explained what the man and Lord Grim had done, how their master had fed him the most souls of any Reaper before him. How the power became too much to handle and he literally went insane, his eyes stained red with the blood of witches, humans, Grigories, and Reapers. He became the third member of Spartoi, but just as quickly as he was inducted they sent him away. Far to the east, in a forest with only a single town to call his own. Eater became their problem.

"But then something funny happened," Free explained lightly. There was a smile in his voice, even though Crona couldn't see it himself.

After being forced to stay in his territory, after years of terrorizing the people who lived there and becoming infamous with the name White Haired Reaper, the man known as Eater suddenly just stopped. Altogether, the insanity that had ruined his life suddenly disappeared. He was calmer, still rather grumpy but for the most part fulfilled his duties as guardian of his territory. Nobody knew exactly when this happened, but Free sneered to himself as a theory popped into his head. He said it out loud for Crona to hear too, that maybe it had something to do with a womanizing man and head-strong woman getting together one night. Then nine months later, the most important mission of his life revolving around a girl who would someday become the Eventide Angel.

The two soldiers turned a corner and headed for a light at the end of the hallway. Crona wasn't paying attention completely, still racking his head around the thought of that man in the desert being the same Eater from the stories. Free had suddenly grown quiet, allowing the young Reaper to think to himself and wonder just how somebody could change so much over time. What was so special about this Eventide Angel that could make a terrifying monster suddenly tame? And just how was this Maka girl connected to all of this, unless of course...?

Crona was cut off yet again. They suddenly reached the light, but he didn't know that until Free stopped yet again and caused the boy to bump into him once more. He apologized like the last time, but trailed off when Free turned around and motioned for him to be quiet. With a finger over his lip, the nutty commander of his seemed serious for once. Immediately the soldier's back straightened, knowing that something important was about to happen. At the same time, Free took his hand and pushed open the ajar door open. Inside, there was a lavish bedroom.

And inside the bedroom, there were people. "Speaking of which, here's the mother-to-be right now."

His eyes widening but not entirely sure why, Crona dared to step forward as his superior sidestepped to allow him a view inside. He took everything in as best he could, though there was so much going on he could hardly give everything the attention it deserved. At a table, on the far side of the room opposite a large bed, two people sat with cards in their hands. They looked up in confusion at both men; one of them with thick red hair, the other with long, flowing blonde locks. He recognized the latter, he'd seen her before. That was Elizabeth Thompson, Lord Grim's assistant.

The redhead he didn't know, but the cat staring up at him from his feet Crona had seen once or twice. It roamed the halls of Gallows Manor, always getting into trouble with the chef for stealing his stock of fish. So black it was almost purple, he knew its name was Blair. He liked the cat, since it was usually the only thing in the mansion that paid any attention to him. Commander Free, however, hated the creature. Even as both men stood there, an almost growling sort of sound rumbled in the back of his throat at the sight of it. _Stupid cat, _he heard the burly man whisper.

_"Free, I told you not to call me that! It just sounds so...wrong."_

Crona backtracked with his eyes towards the opposite end of the room and then stopped. Everything.

He stopped breathing, stopped blinking. Every part of his body just locked up and froze at the sight of her, standing there like she'd just gotten up to do something. A nightgown of pink matched the shade of his cheeks, her dress flowing down just past her knees and exposing her feet. Hair like Ms. Thompson's, only shorter and much silkier, hung down below the blades of her shoulder. He wanted so badly to find out just how soft it really was, but his head emptied itself of all thought when suddenly their eyes locked. Crona's body became mush under the gaze of her bright green eyes, emeralds paling in comparison to just how deep and life-filled they were. His own pale ones shuddered at them, he just didn't know how to deal with all of it.

She raised a brow and cocked her head, which only made the nervous boy lock up even more. "Who's this?"

"Crona Gorgon, our new recruit," Free explained, shoving the soldier forward against his own will. "He'd like to introduce himself!"

"W-What? No! I don't want to!" Crona protested with ever deepening fluster. He shook his head feverishly, already embarrassed beyond belief.

The commander was stronger than he looked, which was saying something. Before he knew it the little Reaper had already stumbled a yard and a half, headfirst towards the floor and right at the Angel's feet. Crona squeaked before hitting carpet, just barely having enough time to throw his hands up to soften the crash. There was a collective gasp from the women in the room, with Free behind him having enough sense to at least say _whoops _at the sight of his subordinate shaking from pure lack of confidence. On all fours, the boy looked the part of a pathetic nobody.

Crona swallowed a giant lump in the back of his throat, expecting someone at any moment to crack up at his expense. He closed his eyes and prayed to be somewhere else, far enough away to not make an ass out of himself in front of his commander and people he didn't even know. Especially not this pretty lady who looked like she wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe he could pretend to pass out...

"Are you okay?" a sweet voice rang in his ears, followed by a feeling on his back. "Crona? Is that your name?"

That shaking feeling, all that uncertainty, it washed away from him in an instant. The moment that hand rested gingerly on his spine, the little Reaper found it in him to toss up his head to find its owner. He already knew by her voice that it was the Angel, but his second time looking at her was more mind-numbing than the first. The fact that such a nice lady could make such a concerned face for someone like him was enough to make him stare, red dusting his cheeks like always. Only this time it wasn't out of embarrassment, but of gratitude.

"Yes, I-I'm, I'm okay," he managed to sputter. Confident or not, the boy still had trouble talking to her.

"Good," she replied, her frown flipping over into a relieved smile. "Did I get your name right?"

Crona gaped for a second, then nodded like his life depended on it. "Yes, ma'am!"

"My name's Maka," the Angel shot back with a happy grin, holding out her hand for him to take. "It's nice to meet you Crona!"

If his eyes weren't already open enough, they grew even wider. In an instant, millions of things suddenly turned on in his brain as soon as he took the woman's hand. She helped him up from the floor and kept up that brighter-than-the-sun smile, but Crona didn't even acknowledge her. Normally receptive to such a warm treatment, he didn't even reply when she asked him something; the boy just stood there with a thousand yard stare, every thought from his earlier conversation with Free suddenly coming together in a way he could finally understand.

For a straight minute he stood like that, his hand still clenched firmly to hers. At the same time, the woman who called herself Maka blinked in confusion at the awkward boy and looked to her friends. Watching the whole thing play out from their place at the table, they could only shrug and look to Free. The commander in turn shook his head in disappointment, part of him expecting such strangeness out of his subordinate. She frowned yet again, just seconds away from waiving her hand in front of Crona. Before the Angel could however, he suddenly snapped.

Confidence suddenly rushed into his eyes, surprising her. "Ms. Maka, can I ask you something?"

She cocked her head and blinked, slightly put off by the question. "Well, sure...what do you want to know, Crona?"

"You're going to be a mother?" he asked unflinchingly, hardening his gaze when she nodded reluctantly. "Please, tell me who the father is."

Crona stood straight and held his breath. At the same time, his superior suddenly jumped to attention for the first time that night. He was angry and the young Reaper could tell, but he couldn't back down at this point. Even when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder, when those same hands started pulling him against his will amidst a string of apologies towards the door, Crona continued to look towards Ms. Maka with conviction. He didn't expect any sort of response, but it wasn't for her anyway. This was for him and the questions eating at him that needed answering.

By the time Commander Free had his foot out the door, Crona was almost crossing the threshold himself. No doubt he'd be punished for upsetting the Eventide Angel, and he knew what to expect. That's why at the last possible moment he broke his gaze and looked all around the room one last time, taking everything in while he still had two good eyes to see them with. Those two people in the corner walking towards Ms. Maka, the cat now on the window sill that watched all of them from afar. Then of course the Angel herself, who by now was...walking towards him?

"Free, what are you doing!" she hissed, coming out of nowhere to stop the man in her tracks. "Leave him alone!"

As a hand grabbed him by the collar, Free took his own off Crona and stammered, "Really? You're okay with the runt asking away?"

Maka rolled her eyes and released him, just as soon as the little Reaper scurried out of the way. She looked to him and smirked before turning her attention back to the burly general, her mood souring just as quickly. For as strong and fearsome as he was, Free was nothing compared to a ticked off pregnant woman. He flinched under her glare and promptly apologized, taking the hint that he should probably leave as well. Crona watched in amazement as his superior left scratching his head, the door coming to a close right behind him.

"Ms. Maka...you didn't have to do that..." he muttered, dumbfounded. She could possibly get into trouble for this, why would she-?

"-His name is Soul," Maka said suddenly as she turned around to face him, revealing to Crona a smile. "My baby's father...you probably know him as Eater."

The young Reaper became silent. In an instant, all his suspicions and fears turned all the more real. He looked to the floor, no longer showing that brief confidence that exploded from him moments before. Now it was Maka being the confident one, the sympathy so noticeable in her face that Crona still knew it was there without even looking. In his head, he went through everything and mounted it all up to a single conclusion; he'd just gotten himself into something bigger than anything he could have ever imagined.

Eater had gone against his orders. He was supposed to protect someone, and instead he ended up having a child with her. Whether it was planned or not didn't matter, at least not to Lord Grim. There were still things he didn't understand, but at least now he knew why Eater had asked so much of him. It had been a little over two months since he'd been exiled, and he must be getting desperate. To him, he probably looked the most innocent. He needed someone reliable to watch over Ms. Maka and the baby...then again, did he even know he had one?

That brought him to his final thought; in his pocket, tucked away safely inside the folds of his cloak, was the book that Eater had given him. Truthfully he'd planned to show it to Lord Grim and put it out of his mind, but now that Crona knew the truth it was a much harder decision to make. He was at a fork in the road, and there were only two options. Either he could take the right path and do what was asked, no, _begged _of him. Or he could take to the left and rat out everyone involved. He could tell Lord Grim where the white Reaper was. He could be a hero.

Crona looked up and found two green eyes staring back at him. Immediately, he made his decision. "It was nice meeting you, Ms. Maka."

From there, everything happened without a sound. Maka watched with disappointment and confusion as the boy bowed his head respectfully, then turned to walk away. She couldn't understand why he went through all this trouble just to leave so abruptly, though the Angel didn't even know what he wanted in the first place. Crona had no intention of letting her know either and as he came to the door to open it, the only indication he gave her was this sad look just before he crossed the threshold. Almost like he was regretting something, deeply.

The door closed after that, but not before something odd happened. Right after Crona gave her that look, as the door was creaking shut behind him, he fished something out from the folds of his cloak and tossed it onto a stand right by the entryway. Before Maka could even register what had happened, the boy was already long gone. If only she and her friends had enough sense to pick the thing up right away and flip through it, maybe they would've had enough time to throw that door open and find him. Maka could have thanked him that first night for what he'd done for her, Soul, and the baby. Because he might not have known it at the time, but that little book is what set the future in motion. Without him, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.

But instead of feeling good about what he'd just done, Crona couldn't help but shiver at the thought of just how much trouble he'd be in for this. If and when Lord Grim ever found out, he might be executed for treason against the Reapers. He didn't know what aiding a fugitive entailed, though at this point it didn't even matter. He'd made the stupid choice, taken the right path, and now was heading down the hall of a very nice mansion thinking about all the things he was obligated to do now. He had to find Eater again. If not for himself, at least for Ms. Maka.

Crona threw his head up towards the ceiling and sighed; he'd be keeping a close eye on her from now on.

* * *

**A.N.**

This chapter's not very heavy on the action, but what were you expecting out of poor ol' wimpy Crona? No worries though, next week's chapter (that's right, I said week) will sate your appetite. Aside from that, I'm waiting to see why people think Maka's called the Eventide Angel lol

I'll give you a hint; look it up in the dictionary.


	3. Rally Point and Roll Call

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Soul Eater

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**-Rally Point and Roll Call-**

* * *

"Be honest with me, Tsubaki. Tell me you haven't thought about being with at least _one_ of them?"

Amidst the background noises of children cheering on their current entertainment, one woman broke her stare to raise a brow at her friend while both sat atop one of the rusted shacks that littered the surrounding Village of Needles. Her fun seemed to drain away almost immediately at the sight of such a devious grin coming from a girl who, not surprisingly, held the title of the desert's biggest flirt. Tsubaki could only take that look for so long and eventually sighed, while at the same time Kim Deihl brushed away her obnoxiously pink hair in silent victory at just how easily she could break the Night Stalker down. All of it was in good fun of course, at least for her anyway. It's not like she'd ever had an opportunity to poke fun at a Reaper before, especially not since her own village was still under The Grim's control.

Besides, her question was honest. In fact, the only thing that kept her eyes off the action taking place in front of them was Tsubaki's yapping at her to mind her own business, and even then Kim kept tossing secret glances towards the two performers that lit up the sky almost once a day. Never before fleeing to Needle Village did she ever get to see something so exciting, and even as her Reaper friend continued to reprimand her the pink-haired Grigori just couldn't fight back the ecstatic grin that all the children standing below them wore all the same.

"...And I'd really appreciate it if you left Soul and Black Star out of this," Tsubaki huffed, noticing that smile on Kim's face. "Really...are you even listening to me-?"

"-Tsubaki, just be quiet and watch!" the young refugee growled, quickly flashing her friend a flat look before returning to her enthusiastic gape.

Before she could even think of something to say back to the girl, Tsubaki was cut off yet again by the sudden applause that erupted from both below and right beside her. Between Kim and the children, there was practically a standing ovation as explosions and spectacular lights were created right before their eyes. And even though part of her was still a little bit annoyed at her, the Reaper let her Grigori friend off easy. It was hard not to after all, since even she got swept up in the excitement. At another explosion, she found herself grinning like an idiot just like all the others.

Those were her boys out there; one tall with white hair and a sarcastic disposition, the other slightly shorter with azure hair and an ego big enough for all three of them combined. Every swipe of their blades sent sand cascading like ocean crests, fountains of earth forming as they dodged one another's attacks and sent another right back to counter. Back and forth, give and take, they demonstrated all of their strength to the other in hopes of becoming stronger. None of it was meant to be entertaining, but that didn't stop everyone from making it into a show all the same.

Every day, right around noon-time, they'd train in the exact same spot outside the village for thirty minutes. Since the two first became friends several months ago, training was a necessity for them although at first the Grigories hated all the noise and commotion. Eventually, as she and Soul settled into their temporary home with Professor Stein and Ms. Mjolnir, people came to accept them more. And from there it was a simply a matter of moving their training further away, at least so people would stop complaining about the noise.

_"Goddammit, Black Star! This is just training, watch where the hell you're swinging that thing!"_

...That's not to say they weren't still the loudest people there, because Tsubaki was sure even Professor Stein could hear the two of them all the way from his house. But if anybody still had complaints about housing the two most wanted men in the world, they were kept silent mostly out of pressure from the other villagers. Despite all the trouble she and Soul had caused upon their arrival for the resilient people, their presence in the once-gloomy collection of shacks was for the most part welcomed. Maybe it had to do with the fact that for once somebody was on their side, a Reaper no less. And for that same Reaper to be the white one that had become so famous throughout all the Grigori villages, well, it became a much needed boost for their morale.

Before Tsubaki even realized it, she'd already spaced out. Caught up in reminiscing, it took another cheer from little kids below to snap her out of it in time to make her catch sight of a scene that immediately made her heart sink. In the sands a good distance away, huffing to catch their breaths, both Soul and Black Star stood stalwart as they glared each other down. In one's hand, a scythe of red, black, and gold that had been ingrained in the minds of all the people of Needle Village. In the other's, a weapon that had become equally famous, but for all the wrong reasons.

It wasn't formed yet. Such things take time when you're manipulating the shadows, even though Black Star had been training for months to cut it down by at least half. All his skill aside though, the hair on the back of Tsubaki's head stood on end as below her children continued to cheer on one of their own. The sword began to take shape as it crawled from the assassin's shadow into his palm, first as an ethereal ball of darkness before quickly taking the rudimentary form of a blade. All the while, Soul stood prepared; this was all just training, but he was still extremely cautious.

"Are you sure you can control it?" he asked while sucking in air, eyeing the evil weapon quickly coming to life in his friend's hand.

Black Star nodded. His body shuddering from the strain, he shot Soul a grin. "If I can't handle one sword after all this time, then I'm worthless."

The white Reaper nodded, but still he kept an eye on him. From so close, he could literally feel his soul being sucked towards that infernal blade. No doubt Tsubaki could feel the same thing and as he shot a glance her way, both locked weary eyes before turning their attention back to Black Star. Continuous chants filled the desert as winds suddenly picked up, the scene slightly eerie even though the children couldn't get enough of it. After all this time, Black Star had finally found an audience that accepted him; if only he didn't have to risk his life to make it happen.

In a flash of empty darkness, the blade finally found its edge. Winds died at its birth, the moment he raised it into the air and slashed to try it out. Just like Soul's scythe, the sky literally whistled at every swipe he took with the sword. Immediately, Black Star gave himself a tired grin of satisfaction. Dots formed in his eyes at the strain the weapon put on him, but there was no way he'd bend over so easily to something that should be obeying him. As he marveled at its dark beauty, Soul meanwhile took a step back to look his friend over.

Aside from looking like shirt, Black Star seemed to be relatively okay. "You're not going to go crazy and try to kill me again, right?"

"Not unless you piss me off," the assassin replied without taking his eyes off the sword. "Besides, this blade doesn't control me anymore."

"Just don't let your guard down when you're using it, Black Star. That thing could take you over at any moment," Soul warned, still keeping his distance.

Needle Village's guardian only smirked. "Sounds pretty dark, fits a guy like me just fine. Always in the shadows, always near death...mine as well call it the Demon Sword."

Dropping his scythe, the Reaper stared at the distant look in Black Star's face. Disappointment bubbled inside him at the man's words and expression, the monotone of his voice and vacancy in his eyes being polar opposite to the loud-mouthed friend he knew. In his gut, Soul knew that sword was still trouble. But for the sake of keeping things civil, he instead did what any other fighter would have done in his position. Taking to his weapon once more, the white Reaper sneered with such enthusiasm that even Black Star took notice. Snapping out of his trance, he found his friend waiting for him with a scythe in both hands just itching to be swung.

"A bowl of Marie's rice says that my blade's better than yours," he taunted with that devilish grin, eyes red like fire burning bright at the thought of a real fight.

Caught off guard, Black Star gaped in surprise. The feeling quickly ended though, because in a second's time he was already crouching down to strike. "Hope you don't mind starving tonight!"

In the back of his head, Soul thought things wouldn't get out of hand. He'd win no problem, steal Black Star's dinner, and act like the most he'd done was _accidentally_ make contact with the runt's sword while training. Nobody would ever know the difference, at least that's what he thought. Failing to take into consideration that not everyone was oblivious to their plan to fight, the Reaper was none the wiser as he and the assassin took battle-ready stances. If only they'd had enough common sense between them to realize that Tsubaki was still very much present and knew everything that was going on, they'd have stopped immediately. But unfortunately for everyone they didn't, and the Night Stalker was helpless to watch along with the only Grigori old enough to hear and understand the conversation.

"I can't believe they're actually going to fight! Are they insane!" she panicked, knowing all too well that a fight between them could be disastrous.

"Are you kidding me? This is amazing!" Kim replied ecstatically, practically jumping in her seat. "If only the rest of the village could see this, Tsubaki!"

Already too late to do anything about it, both women were helpless spectators to what was about to occur. The throngs of people now gathering to watch drowned out Tsubaki's desperate ramblings to herself with their cheers, none of them knowing just how much trouble they were actually in. Totally ignorant, they whistled and egged the two men on to get things started. Both fighters completely lost in themselves, they stayed still as statues despite the encouragement they got from the sidelines. It was like everyone else disappeared, save for them.

Then to the lone woman's horror, their unified shouts rose above everyone else's as the battle suddenly got underway. Children and parents alike watched in pure amazement as the sand beneath their feet rippled away into the nothing at the speed with which they went at each other. In an instant, they could no longer be seen save for the few Grigories perceptive enough to track them. For Tsubaki and Kim, that meant watching in slow motion as Soul and Black Star went at one another full force, just seconds away from making contact.

Unable to watch, the Night Stalker threw her hands over her face and braced for the damning sound of metal clanging together. She prayed the two of them would keep it together and not go overboard, but even that was a wishful request. A second later, a booming roar of metal slamming against each other echoed throughout the desert. Everyone including Kim practically screamed in shock and excitement, the battle already well under way by the time Tsubaki sighed and cautiously let her hands down. Whether she wanted it to happen or not, the fight was on.

They were serious this time. No longer were they launching feint attacks, instead all their power went into each stroke of their terrifying weapons. In a choreographed dance of sweat and steel, each blow they threw at one another resulted in a sonic boom of wind and sand. While Black Star effortlessly dodged all of Soul's attacks, the Reaper's unrelenting strikes came again and again. Already it had become a war of attrition; whoever got tired first would be the loser. The only problem was they were beasts among men and exhaustion wouldn't come till much later.

"Show me what that butter knife can do, Black Star!" Soul roared, his eyes narrowing in a cool preparation to strike once more.

In deadly silence the assassin raised his Demon Sword to defend, the look of a cold killer strewed devilishly across his face. At the same time, his opponent threw all his weight into a sprint that looked like it would connect at any moment. Black Star planted his feet and braced for impact, thinking for a split second that Soul had become too predictable in his assault. But at the last second the Reaper proved him wrong, displaying just how different their fighting styles really were. Instead of coming full force, Soul stuck the ground and stopped on a dime. Wide eyed the assassin watched, completely frozen, as the scythe came not from the front like he was expecting, but the side where he was completely exposed in his open stance.

Cursing loudly for all the children to hear, Black Star changed his game immediately. The demonic sword in his hands writhed with a life all its own, its blade forming what looked like flames made completely out of shadows. With a speed that wasn't Reaper or Grigori, Soul was helpless to watch his opponent suddenly move out of the way. Like a ghost without substance, he seemed to disappear then reappear right in front of him. Still caught in his momentum however, the Reaper could do nothing to defend himself as the soul-eating blade came crashing down.

If it were any other person, they'd be torn to shreds by such an attack. Black Star knew this as well, which is why he didn't hold back in the least; even going all out, he knew there was no way to kill Soul at his current level. It wasn't possible when no matter what attack the assassin threw at him, there was always that last line of defense just waiting to be activated. And when that sword itched for blood on its descent downwards, the Reaper's power manifested itself in a dramatic display of raw power. Before Black Star's weapon could even make contact, it was stopped.

His entire body trembling in a desperate tug-of-war, the assassin fought with a shadowy tentacle to finish what he started. "Damn your resonance, Soul!"

All around the white Reaper, erupting from the ground where his shadow lie, were a dozen of the dark tendrils that had been born from his Grigori soul. Although slightly disgusted at the sight of them, he immediately sighed in relief after looking up and realizing just how close he'd come to being cut. The crowds on the other hand were a different story entirely; they couldn't get enough of it. As they cheered like idiots from the sidelines, Soul and Black Star took a moment to compose themselves and back away civilly. The tentacles released their hold, and the fight was back on.

Soul's resonance didn't go away, however. Even after doing their job, they still remained like faithful snakes that wriggled eagerly to be of use again. It was an intimidating sight to see them and the white Reaper on the same side, but Black Star had no fear. He knew what needed to be done and didn't waste any time; the only way to win was to go all out at once. With a dark grin, he crouched towards the floor and brought his damned sword to his chest. It was the tell-tale form of a man desperate enough to put all his strength into one final strength, and Soul recognized it.

"Come on, Reaper!" Black Star taunted, sneering with a sort of malice. "Give me everything you got! I want to see that power you stole from The Grim!"

Almost immediately there was an angry twitch in Soul's brow, the assassin's words striking a chord with him somehow. Whatever it was, Black Star's plan to bait him ended up working like a charm. A stupid grin spread wide on his face when the white Reaper took his scythe and switched into an odd stance. The blade behind him, Soul stared with narrowed eyes as all around him the shadowed tentacles began to squirm towards him. By his silent command, they came together into a single tendril before it slithered up the shaft of his scythe. Finally, he was using it.

Eagerly he followed suit, Black Star's own blade having a few tricks of its own as well. Making a small gesture with his hand, the swordsman focused his energy into two fingers as he meditated. Eyes closed, he could only trust that all around him shadows started to emerge from the ground as he envisioned it. And sure enough, the crowd all gasped in amazement as the same fiery darkness that burned the Demon Sword started roaring like an inferno around Black Star. They couldn't believe that such a thing was possible, especially not for the same boy they used to make fun of.

Everybody watched in amazement, except of course for the one woman who had protested the fight in the first place. Unlike everybody else, she couldn't sit still in the face of Soul and Black Star putting everything they had into a showdown. At this point though, Tsubaki couldn't do much else besides curse under her breath at just how stupid these two were being. Right beside her Kim took notice, but didn't say anything. She was too busy gawking like the others, somewhere between crouching on her knees and standing up in anticipation.

"What do you think's going to happen now?" the pink Grigori asked, not taking her eyes off the scene for anything.

Tsubaki only shuddered at the thought. "I think if those two strike each other at full strength, you'd be better off looking for another village to call home."

Kim suddenly stopped and turned to Tsubaki, obviously surprised at just how strong the fighters were. She stared for a moment before turning her attention back to the action, and what she found made her stomach churn. Only a moment ago it would have seemed awesome to her, but now that she knew just how dangerous things were becoming, the sight of Soul and Black Star in their battle stances was enough to make her wonder if they were really going to destroy the village. Their preparations were over, now it was up to them whether to strike or not.

And to her horror, they gave their answer. Before she could even blink, the crowd roared in a final rally as the two men put everything they had into one final assault. The moment Soul's shadow funneled into his blade and made it black, sands literally parted to accommodate them. Eyes wild, they forgot about everything else. It wasn't about a stupid bowl of rice anymore or even about training; after two months of pushing themselves to the limit, this was their chance to see if all of it paid off. Did they really deserve to be called the desert's strongest?

"Pillar in the darkness," Soul roared, swinging his scythe underneath him full force. "Under-Arc Hunter!"

At the same time, Black Star came from above. All around him, fiery shadows surrounded him as he shouted, "Yosegiri!"

It was such a sight that everybody grew silent, most of all Tsubaki. She couldn't bear it any longer and hid her face in preparation for what was about to happen, more than likely a lot of collateral damage and many children scarred for life. Shaking her head, the female Reaper waited patiently as the whistling sounds of bare metal collided towards each other. At any moment it would all be over and maybe if they were lucky, there would still be a village to live in afterwards. She hoped that was the case, and closed her eyes while biting her lip.

Seconds passed and her anxiety only grew, each moment passing by agonizingly slow. But after waiting so long, Tsubaki still didn't hear or feel the tell-tale explosion. Everybody was still quiet and yet even without looking, she could tell it wasn't the kind of awe-inspired silence from before. She realized then that the whistling had stopped and both men were no longer running towards her. The Night Stalker quickly peeked with one eye and expected to see one of them passed out from the blow, but instead all she found was the most relieving sight possible.

Sword stuck coming down, Black Star was held mid-air on the left. In front of him, Soul was crouched down and just as frozen. And in between them both, was Professor Stein.

The white Reaper and blue assassin remained absolutely still. On their faces, the stupid dumbfounded look someone gets when they literally have nothing to say when being caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. With his bare hands, the professor held onto the brunt of their power with not even a tremble. Their blades didn't even draw blood, which was frightening as hell when coupled with the deathly glare he gave the two of them. At the first sight of it, Soul and Black Star immediately let up; they relented, even though Stein didn't let go.

Everyone was speechless. The once eager crowd, Kim Diehl, most of all the two men who now found themselves caught red handed. Just about the only one who wasn't gawking was Tsubaki herself, who immediately fell to her back and sighed in relief after finding out everything would be okay. She couldn't believe just how close they'd come to shooting themselves in the foot, especially since Stein had specifically told them not to fight in the village unless it was for self defense. At least this way they still had a home to come back to after the professor was through with them.

Back on the training grounds, Stein finally let go of their blades. "I told you idiots not to fight here for a reason. This isn't a training ground, other people live here believe it or not."

"Professor, how did you...?" Soul struggled to say, before being on the receiving end of a dubious glare. He chose his words carefully, "...That was incredible"

"That's bullshit, that's what that was..." Black Star mumbled to himself. Almost immediately he regretted that statement, however.

A person could go their entire lives without hearing a man squeak like a little girl, certainly the white Reaper had up until that point. But the moment Professor Stein turned around to pounce on the boy he'd raised since childhood, Soul understood now what a man like that would sound like. He looked away awkwardly as the two struggled in the sand, not quite understanding how a man could go from deadly assassin to an easily dominated child so quickly. Instead he absently looked towards Tsubaki, who he'd just realized was still in the stands.

He shook his head and felt bad for his friend, seeing how she saw all of it play out with everyone else. At least it ended quickly enough, although the outcome was even worse than the actual wrestling. The crowd that cheered him on minutes before suddenly started laughing instead at just how ridiculous he looked; face first in the dirt and scowling like Soul had never seen before. Black Star finally gave up as the Professor used him as a chair. Ass on his back, Stein dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Putting it to a lighter, he took a puff and sighed.

"Now if you two are done being stupid," Stein chastised, quickly calming from the nicotine. "The village chief wanted to speak with us."

"Why does Ox Ford want to talk with us?" Soul raised a brow, not thrilled about holding meetings. It reminded him too much of his time with Kidd.

Out from underneath Professor Stein, an angry growl rumbled in the back of Black Star's throat. "Whatever it is, it's not good. The little twerp's way too bossy."

"Well whatever you think of him, he should be here any minute. I was with him when your training went south," Stein explained tersely, his words still cutting deep.

The white Reaper shook his head and turned again towards Tsubaki's direction, she and the girl next to her being the only ones still sitting down. Everyone else had already started to leave, none of them finding the lack of fighting exciting enough to stick around anymore. It was all the same to Soul, the less people around the better. This whole thing had gotten far too out of hand, from the very beginning he didn't like spectators watching them train. Next time they'd find some other place to do business, somewhere far away, far, away.

He threw his hand up and waived to the lone Reaper, motioning her to come over. She hopped to her feet at the sight and said something to the pink Grigori at her side. Next thing he knew Tsubaki was on her way, only to his surprise she ended up bringing a friend. Soul raised a brow as both women ran towards them in a line, with the girl in pink bringing up Tsubaki's rear. Too busy talking amongst themselves to notice, Black Star and Stein didn't pay any attention as the new comers arrived. Soul was the only one to greet them, and he did so absently.

Lucky enough for him, Tsubaki wasn't bitter about the whole ordeal. The other girl however looked like she was a ticked off, even thought he couldn't really tell for sure. She kept hiding her face from him and looking the other way, red starting to brush her cheeks. Now that he thought about it, Soul knew who this new girl was; Kim Diehl, a refugee from one of the neighboring villages. It just now occurred to him that he almost destroyed her new home, and seeing as how her old one had been nearly leveled in The Grim's last attack, their battle probably stirred up bad memories.

"Hey, Kim. That's your name, right?" he spoke up reluctantly, not very good with being polite. "Sorry about earlier, Black Star and I weren't using our heads."

Immediately the girl's head shot up at her name being called, but Tsubaki was the one to answer for her. "Just don't let it happen again, Soul!"

"...I can speak for myself, Tsubaki!" Kim huffed, her face extremely red at this point. After that, the short lived conversation quickly died.

For an awkward few minutes it was the five of them in two separate groups, with Soul being by himself between them. He scratched the back of his head in boredom and glanced at Black Star. Still griping about Stein being on him, he as annoying as he was loud. At the same time he noticed Tsubaki and the new girl whispering frantically amongst themselves about something, not that he really cared. However, they did start to flash looks in his direction, which piqued the Reaper's interest. He was about to ask about it too, that is until...

_"So the Professor leaves me in the middle of a conversation, with the excuse that my village is about to be obliterated by a former Reaper and his friend with a brain the size of a walnut!"_

Current village chief, Ox Ford. Son of the former who died several years ago, he took his father's mantle and single-handedly appointed himself the new leader of Needle Village. Very smart, very egotistical, very much on Black Star's hit list, this same man was the one who sneaked up behind the motley crew of ragtag rebels and made his presence known in the most obnoxious way possible. Everybody turned around at the sound of his unmistakably haughty voice, not at all surprised to find a man with short brown hair standing before them dressed in traditional chieftain garb. He wore glasses thick enough to put Professor Stein's to shame, which made him look all the less like an outstanding leader and more like a boy trying to fill in his father's shoes.

Soul took one look at him and immediately sighed tiredly, "I'm not in the mood for any bullshit, Ox. Tell us what you came here for and go the hell away."

"You and I both know it doesn't work that way," the greenhorn chief replied with about as much enthusiasm. "Besides, this war isn't just yours to worry about anymore."

Sending a quick glance towards the girl with pink hair, Ox obviously had someone in mind. Kim on the other hand didn't take kindly to being put on the spotlight, least of all by a man who acted way too old for his age. Soul watched from the sidelines as she gave him a nasty glare, making it known to her new chief just how she felt about the unwanted attention. Not surprisingly he backed down with a straight face, just like all the other times before this one. Despite being the village chief, he still wasn't very good at communicating with other people.

Even someone with half a brain could see he wanted the refugee. Ever since she first arrived here, Ox always treated her specially from the others. Whether or not Kim knew it or not remained to be seen, since either way her rejection was painfully obvious to everyone but him. Soul kind of felt bad for the guy to be honest; he was annoying, but he legitimately cared for the people in the village. Not many people liked him, despite the fact that he was the only chief from the twenty villages who actually took an active role in fighting The Grim.

"It's been two months since Free passed through here, and since then we've been caught off guard multiple times," Ox dropped the ball.

Professor Stein took a long drawl from his cigarette. "You should have expected this. Be thankful our Reaper friends were here to fend them off."

"My concerns lie with the frequency our allies are being attacked," Chief Ford mumbled gravely. "We have no formal attacking forces...really, it's only you four."

"Three, actually. I'm a non-combatant." The Professor corrected the man airily, taking great pleasure in finding out how long he could make the smoke from his cigarette grow.

Already deciding this meeting was heading nowhere like always, Soul made a very blunt proposition. "Would someone please tell me when we're going to get serious about this?"

They'd been pulling this charade for a little over two months now; discuss the war, act like they were making some sort of progress, pretend to make plans for the future. All it ever did was take their minds off things for a few days before reality hit them twice as hard. Whenever another refugee like Kim appeared from one of the Grigori villages that had been leveled, it became another reminder of just how futile all of their planning was. They weren't thinking like a force trying to win, at this point the best they could hope for was survival.

It'd felt like a year since he took that promise to become The Grim, even though he didn't have much to show for it at the moment. Since then, the twenty villages that made up the desert had done their best to coordinate into something at least resembling an army. For the most part they failed, since really only a handful of them had broken free from Reaper control. To make matters worse, Kidd had decided to step up his game and make periodic attacks on those nearest Needle Village. Kim's had already been lost in this way, and many more were soon to follow.

Their forces were so rag tag it was pathetic; Ox was no general. Professor Stein had no intention of fighting directly with anyone. Black Star had been under his wing training the whole time and was possibly the only capable fighter besides Tsubaki, who had been stuck with support until now. Out of everyone, Soul was the only one with experience in fighting a war. It might have been decades ago, but at least he knew how to organize and fight against an enemy that didn't like to show themselves out in the open. And even though he absolutely hated the idea of taking charge, the part of him pissed off with their lack of initiative was finally starting to win him over. Something had to be done and soon, before all their efforts become futile.

"We need to seriously consider making our first strike against the Reapers," Ox finally echoed his thoughts after a moment of silence between them.

Tsubaki only shook her head. "That's impossible. Death is surrounded by an impenetrable shell, nothing can get in or out save for the Runaway Express."

"Which is why old Soul here can't get back to Maka," Black Star added, trying not to open bare wounds. "Otherwise we would have attacked a long time ago."

Despite his friend's rare gentleness, still the Reaper winced at the mere mention of the vehicle that had become the bane of his existence; the Runaway Express. A hundred years ago, after the war against renegade humans called Witches, The Grim decided to solidify his defenses. He made it so that only Reapers with his permission could use it to travel back and forth between Death and the outside world. Without it, a Reaper was stranded wherever they were until it was deemed safe enough to travel. Now that he'd been banished, obviously Soul didn't have the privilege anymore. It was something he failed to consider back then and now it was costing him dearly, since the only way back to Maka was through a route he could no longer take.

They'd tried everything to get inside since then, ranging anywhere from tools concocted by Stein in his lab, to just straight up attacking the thing repeatedly until they were exhausted. Despite their efforts, Soul knew it was pointless. The shell was literally Shinigami's essence in solid form. Nothing could affect the darkness that surrounded Death, except of course for Kidd. By that logic, all the training they'd done in the past two months was just in preparation for the final battle; they'd never really considered just exactly _how _they were going to get there.

Chief Ford tried to boost everyone's confidence. "But that's why we had the professor write his notes in that book Soul brought back from Loew, right?"

"We made a huge gamble giving the book to that boy," Stein shot back. "You have no idea just how much knowledge is locked inside those pages."

"Yeah, I still don't know why we did that. Isn't it the same book that taught Soul how to use those scythe techniques?" Black Star grumbled.

At the mention of his name, the Reaper threw his head up and growled. "It was my book, I'll do whatever I dam well please with it!"

Black Star quietly looked his friend over, careful not to let him see. For the most part, Soul had calmed considerably since he first came to Loew. According to Tsubaki he used to be even more of an asshole, but at least when he came they got the broken-in version. Maybe being knocked down by someone he hated so much took a toll on him. Whatever it was, the white Reaper wasn't the same person he used to be. Nine times out of ten, it was pretty rare for him to scowl like he used to and in fact the village children liked to poke fun at the fact he'd become so tame.

But whenever he or anyone else mentioned that damn book of his, Soul would immediately get defensive. The day he and Black Star both went to Loew, Eibon's journal was with him twenty-four seven. Whatever that Reaper named Free told him on his way through, it obviously got to Soul. And whatever was in that book nobody knew, except of course for Stein. The professor was the only one who could read and translate it, not that he was willing to share either. Both men were so secretive about it, and yet all of them were supposed to be in this together.

All Black Star knew was that once Soul got a hold of that book, he started using those freakish moves. Stein said they were the same ones Shinigami, the first Grim, used when he was still alive thousands of years ago. It wasn't hard to put two and two together; obviously they came from Eibon's book. What the assassin really wanted to know was why Soul was so attached to it one minute, then all of a sudden willingly give it to some random stranger on the off chance that he'd give it to Maka the next. Just what the hell was going on that people weren't talking about?

In his rare silence, Black Star sat back and listened to Ox speak. "Regardless, we need a backup strategy in case things go wrong on Maka's end."

"I take it you already have something in mind?" Stein mused. At the same time, Ox removed his glasses tiredly and rubbed them on his shirt.

"The village leaders demand that we increase our striking forces," he explained to the group. "I'm obligated to agree with the majority."

At this point, Kim found her voice and chimed in, "If you're looking for more people to join, why not recruit from the other villages?"

Tsubaki shook her head. "They're already stretched thin as it is defending themselves. We need strength from the outside."

"There's nobody like that, Tsubaki..." Kim thought for a moment, before shouting, "Wait, what about the Sun Grigori!"

Everybody turned to face the pink-haired girl, who immediately regretted putting herself in the spotlight like that. Her face lit up as bright as her hair, likely having something to do with the fact that the two men she idolized were also in the crowd. They on the other hand were less than enthusiastic, and she realized that when she caught sight of Soul's face. His calm face just wasn't there, instead an unsightly scowl that just didn't belong there. Kim realized that instead of freaking out, now was the time to shine. Her moment to impress the others had finally arrived.

"He's a man in the mountains near my former village," she explained calmly. "They say he's the strongest Grigori in the desert."

"...We know who you're talking about, Kim. The only problem is nobody knows where he lives." Ox countered reluctantly.

Stein scratched the back of his head. "Well, I suppose if there was a way to reach him it would be worth our while. His power is undeniable."

"I can take you to him! He's weird, so all the kids used to climb up to his house and make fun of him!" Kim grinned, before realizing how shallow she sounded.

Black Star narrowed his eyes, not liking the sound of someone being stronger than him. Before he could protest though, Soul suddenly spoke. "I'll go, let's do this."

Surprised, the azure assassin looked his friend over with narrowed eyes. Something wasn't adding up with him; one second he's acting like a total ass, and the next he's suddenly volunteering for missions that have nothing to do with him. All because he mentioned that stupid book earlier, the one that Soul had no intention of talking to him, his friend, about. Whatever he had up his ass, Black Star was going to find out one way or another. He wasn't going to sit back and let things go, not when this anger started bubbling inside him at thought of being left out.

Fuck Eibon and his stupid journal. "I'm going, too! Whoever the hell this Sun Grigori is, I'm gonna put him in his place!"

"Alright then, is everyone in agreement?" Ox asked, their nods being good enough for him. "I'll contact Kim's village and make the necessary arrangements."

With a bow, the young chief excused himself from the meeting. The others watched for a moment as he left, before they too started off towards Stein's house. A journey this long on such short notice would be taxing, so the more time they had to prepare the better. Stein and Tsubaki were the first ones to go, followed by an eager Kim right behind him. That left Soul to take off after her, with a stoic Black Star being the last one to leave the open desert. He watched everyone go on like nothing was wrong, when to him it felt like nothing was how it should be.

Soul was going to be the next Grim! He had a woman to save! Why was he going around wasting time like this? What were they even really doing? They didn't need anybody else to take the Reapers down, just the two of them and Tsubaki would do. Other people would only get in the way, like this Kim character who had no business coming into their little group like she'd always been there. Then Ox coming out of nowhere and giving them missions like they were actual soldiers or something...nothing made sense anymore! He didn't like any of this at all.

"Whatever," Black Star mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets before taking off. "I'll straighten this out myself."

By tomorrow things would probably cool over between him and Soul. The Reaper would return to his usually mellow self, while his own not-give-a-shit attitude would come back to him full force. Things would stay like that too, that is until the three of them would leave on their journey. Then he'd let the bastard have it, and wouldn't back down until Soul gave him the answers he wanted. Among them, probably the biggest was what his plan was; they'd trained together, killed together, done stupid shit together for a little over two months. It wasn't really that long to get to know somebody, but in this place it was rare for two people to live long enough to say they'd known each other for years. At least by now he could show him a little trust...!

...Or not. Maybe he was expecting too much out of a Reaper, even though this particular one was the only friend he'd ever had.

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**A.N.**

This chapter was a little something I wrote early while secluded from the rest of the internet. Consider it a boon from my many hours of reflection and self-criticism.

Scarlet, you're the only one who knows what I'm talking about lol


	4. The Angel of Death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater

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**Chapter Four**

**-The Angel of Death-**

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Considering all the crap he'd gone through lately, it was amazing just how simple it was to land this job in the first place. In a few short days, he'd gone from cannon fodder on the front lines of a war to personal bodyguard to the prettiest woman he'd ever seen before in his life. Forced to stay in a fancy mansion that he'd only seen once or twice, Crona wondered why on earth nobody was assigned to protect Ms. Maka in the first place; she was supposed to be famous, right? Not that he was an expert on the upper class but, didn't they usually have people trying to kill them?

Well whatever the reason it made no difference to him. As he stood there by the doorway of a _very nice_library, watching with weary eyes as a certain blonde lady hunched over the journal he'd tossed into her room days before, Crona shuddered slightly at the memory of his request for the job. It was only a day after Commander Free was thrown out by Ms. Maka, meaning there wasn't a whole lot of time for him to cool down. Sitting in a room Lord Grim used for his meetings with the hulking general, Free took oh-so-much pleasure in watching Crona get down on his hands and knees while begging for the position. Lucky enough for him though, his superior wasn't the cruel type; he didn't even ask why he wanted the job. With a shrug and a sneer, he gave his approval.

Of course, being the jerk that he was, there was one little stipulation. "_Just because her last guard got lucky, doesn't mean you will too. Keep it in your pants."_

And being the emotional wreck that Crona was, he screamed back with the brightest shade of red on his face, "_It's not even like that, I swear!"_

There was laughter at his expense, some ruffling of his hair too, before finally being dismissed to gather his things. Really he didn't want to think about the rest, since even now it put him in a sour mood. The point was, several days later he now found himself watching over Ms. Maka just like he promised. It was awkward at first being formally re-introduced to a person he'd already met, but it was unavoidable. Living true to her namesake though, the Angel made things so much easier for him. She was by far the nicest lady in death and she showed it every single day.

It was not only his job to protect her, but make her life easier as well. A servant was basically all he was, unlike Eater who was the epitome of security. Crona was a soldier, though being the youngest out of all the Reapers meant he had no time to discover his strengths yet. In the meantime he was reduced to carrying around Ms. Maka's things and bringing her food, however she'd never allow him to do any of that on his own. The first time she went to the library, he'd reached for her books in order to carry all of them himself. Instead, she took half herself and tossed the rest to him.

_"Normally I'd carry all these myself,"_she'd said with a matter-of-fact smile, continuing to walk as Crona fumbled. _"But if you're dead-set on helping me, I'll let you carry half._"

She was so odd. That's what the young Reaper told himself at first, when she did little things like that during his first day on the job. Unlike all the upper-class people he'd seen up until then, Ms. Maka didn't let any of it go to her head. Whether it was giving him most of her delicious food or asking him his opinion on certain things, she had a warmth to her that nobody in the desert could match. It was like she was out of her element, placed in a situation that she had no control over but was doing the best with what she had. This mansion had no appeal to her, it seemed.

Of course, there was an obvious reason for that. It was why he took this job in the first place and found himself standing at unnecessary attention, waiting for the moment that Ms. Maka would call for him. She didn't like it when he kept his distance, but to ease his paranoia it was practically a requirement. Commander Free's words nagged at the back of his head like a mosquito and with a terrible twitch the young soldier fantasized about Eater, in all his nightmarish fury, thinking he tried getting close with the mother of his child. Definitely not a comforting thought and a situation he would very much like to avoid, so for the sake of his own skin and making Eater happy, Crona did his best to remain as stoic and professional as possible.

That only lasted so long, since fate wasn't kind to the boy. Even as he twitched, the unmistakable ring of Ms. Maka's voice resonated through the air and snapped Crona back out of it. She was calling for him, more than likely needing help with something. The young soldier made a mad scramble towards her, eager to prove his worth while at the same time hoping to not embarrass himself. That ended up being a wasted effort as well since before he could even make it to the table, Crona lost control of his chaotic swagger. To his horror, history repeated itself.

Arms waving frantically on either side of him, Maka's bodyguard fell face forward. "No no no no-!"

And spinning around just in time to watch the show take place was the Angel herself, her polite smile quickly swapping out for a horrified gape as Crona fell right towards her. For a half-second they stared at each other wide-eyed and silent, convinced that their foreheads would quickly find company with one another. At least one of them was safe however, the other not so much; just a few inches shy of blowing his new job as bodyguard, Crona at least had the relief of knowing that only his face would be smacking against something...unfortunately for him, the floors just so happened to made out of marble.

"Crona!" Maka gasped as the little Reaper landed with a thud, already jumping out of her seat to help him.

Likewise, he squirmed on the floor in vain to pick himself up. All he could do was lift his head up pitifully and mumble, "Ow..."

"You need to be more careful!" she chided with concern, shaking her head as she grabbed him by the arms. "Take your time, it's not like I'm dying!"

Nodding his head through a dizzying headache, Crona all too willingly accepted Ms. Maka's assistance. She signed as he came to his feet, the giant red mark on his face staring right at her as the little Reaper tried his hardest to rub it off. However, it quickly became apparent to Maka that it wouldn't be coming out any time soon. So with a shrug she motioned for Crona to take his seat already, which he did albeit it with a bruised ego and nonexistent self-confidence; like a scolded child he sat there, tending to the swollen bump at the tip of his forehead.

Meanwhile, Ms. Maka got to business the second she pulled up a chair. "Well, it's official...I have absolutely no idea what's written in this journal."

Barely paying attention to her, Crona continued to fiddle with his wound instead. "Eater was really intent on getting it to you, that's for sure."

"Of course," the woman mused, looking towards the ceiling. "I should've known he'd forget the little details, or in this case one big one."

"...How to read it?" With a sickly face the Reaper leered at her, until Maka's tired surrender made him whip out an amused smile.

Sliding the small journal away from her, Ms. Maka let her head fall to the table in exhaustion. Crona, despite having the strong urge to make things better, simply let the young woman be. She wasn't upset, he could tell that much. In fact, despite having spent most of her days in a _library_, which to him didn't seem all that fun in the first place, Ms. Maka couldn't hide all those smiles she secretly gave herself whenever she was on the verge of a breakthrough. And of course none of them had come through for her so far, but that didn't stop the Angel from losing hope.

She _really_ liked to read books, and Crona was more than confident she could find something in Lord Grim's library that could help in translating the journal Eater had given them. It was weird for him, being this optimistic over something that a week ago had meant nothing to him. But maybe this is what happens when babies are involved...things tend to get a little more complicated, or at least that's what he'd heard before. It's not like there were babies in Death and he couldn't remember anything before coming a Reaper so, there was that.

Still, looking at Ms. Maka sitting there with her head buried in her arms, it was hard not to think about that little kid-to-be growing inside her stomach just beneath the table. What's more, the circumstances surrounding everything were still a complete mystery to him; how in the world does someone fall in love with a demon like Eater in the first place? Wait...nobody said anything about love. Was it? Or did something happen between the two of them and a baby was the end result...oh god, wait...he shouldn't even be thinking about that! No, no no no no no, no. No! Damn, it was already there! But Ms. Maka was so nice, why would a legendary Reaper want to get close to her? Love was the least likely route, so the only other thing he could want was...dammit!

That terrible thought kept popping up in his head! He was a horrible person for thinking of Ms. Maka as nothing more than Eater's plaything, but even Crona had to admit it made sense. If there was one thing he knew in that tiny head of his, it was that Reapers had only two taboos; eating souls and messing around with mortals. Both of them were obviously wrong, but the latter was inherently sick. To associate with people a fraction of your own age was disgusting and Eater was no exception. To many, him and Ms. Maka were the ultimate definition of perverse.

"Ms. Maka!" Crona suddenly squeaked, unable to hold back any longer. "Can I ask you something?"

Immediately the young woman was rattled from her half-sleep, very much awake but still bleary eyed. Not even realizing what she was agreeing to, Maka nodded her head and immediately pulled back to stretch. At the same time Crona was about to blurt something out, but at the last second covered his mouth out of fear of saying something stupid. This was a delicate situation and he needed to choose his words carefully; he'd gotten this job fairly easily, but it'd be even quicker losing it once he insulted the very same lady he was supposed to be protecting.

After a moment to collect himself, the one question that summed all the others suddenly popped into his head. "What is Eater to you?"

It was short, sweet, and held so much meaning. Crona knew he asked the right thing when Ms. Maka suddenly perked in her chair and, with a rosy smile he'd hadn't seen her make before, looked towards the back corner of the room in thought. The amount of emotion behind it all was enough to make the young soldier scratch his head bashfully, not used at all to the warmth that could be felt in the room right then and there. He liked seeing Ms. Maka happy; it made him feel like he was doing his job right, not to mention he was finally going to get explanations.

"When I was a little girl, my parents used to fight a lot. Everyone in the town I grew up in knew it, which only made them blame each other and then they'd get into it all over again."

Crona blinked, but nodded politely; this wasn't what he was expecting...and she continued, "So there were times when it became too much for me and I'd go outside town on my own. Me, not even ten years old, walking through the forest like I owned the place. Nothing ever bothered me, no matter how many times I went. At the time, I felt like I could take care of myself without having to rely on my arguing parents. Just me, nobody else, and for the longest time I felt that way. Nothing could touch me, I was independent...until the day came I found out I wasn't."

"Eater was watching you the whole time." With the most thoughtful look in her eyes, Maka glanced at the skinny bodyguard and smiled.

"After he told me everything, Soul was attached to my hip from then on. He'd visit me at night, check up on me during the day, and act like an ass each time. I actually started to resent him, you know...thinking for so long that you're strong enough to stand on your own feet, only to find out it's been a lie this whole time. For a few days I was pretty rude to him, but he never seemed to mind. I guess thinking back on it now, it was because he always knew I wanted his company; I'd grown up with it, whether I realized it or not, and he was right. I needed him."

"So he made you feel safe, is that it?" Crona asked, putting two and two together. "I guess that makes sense, I mean he is really powerful-"

But before he could continue on, Maka threw him another surprise. "-Actually it's the opposite. Maybe not when I first met him, but definitely now."

"...Ms. Maka, I really don't understand what you're saying." This whole thing had just gotten way more complicated; nobody around him ever made sense!

She only smiled again, "Never once did I open up to my parents, Crona. Mr. Sid was about the only person close to me in Loew and he was twice my age, so really I have no life-long friends...but everything's different with Soul. It's not that I don't feel safe around him, because I do...it's just that for once in my life, I have someone who I can put all my faith into. I'm at my most vulnerable when he's around, since there's no one on this planet that I trust more than him. If he asked me to stick my neck out I'd do it, in a heartbeat, because I know he'll come through for me in the end. _That's_why I love him, Crona; I don't care that he's a Reaper, I don't care that he's technically still dead. This trust is something I'd die for and he knows that, which is why he fights so hard to come back."

Dumbstruck by all kinds of emotions, Crona simply gaped at Ms. Maka's increasingly softer face. He had no words in his vocabulary to express just how beautiful that speech was to him, nor did he have the tact to even put them in a coherent sentence if he did. All the young guardsman could do was look away and hide the smirk that grew on his lips, red dusting his face as always only this time not because of embarrassment. A fuzzy feeling in the pit of his gut kept him silent, one he wasn't familiar with after becoming a Reaper. It stunned him, kept him frozen, but in a good way.

Time became lost to him for a little bit, his attention nowhere near keeping track of the clock. Still in a gush he sat there, not noticing that Ms. Maka's eyes grew very wide all of a sudden. A small panic swept over her and, unbeknownst to Crona at the time, she looked him over as if waiting for him to do something. Feeling her eyes on him however, the young soldier quickly turned towards Maka and gave him a bewildered look of his own; what was she staring at? She looked worried for some reason, like she might have said something she wasn't supposed to.

"Crona, about that whole _dead_ thing..." the Angel explained nervously, focusing hard on what to say."It's, uh, just a figure of speech..."

For once, he caught on quickly. Crona waved his arms in front of him frantically, "Oh! No, I already know Ms. Maka. All of us Reapers are no longer alive."

"You already know? But you're so young!" Maka raised a brow, remembering that incident in the theater; many of the Reapers there had no idea they'd already died.

"Well, ever since Eater was banished, Lord Grim made it a rule that everyone knows now. Older people and groups like Spartoi already kinda knew, so it wasn't such a big deal I guess."

Maka nodded, though her curiosity started to get the better of her. For some reason, Crona didn't seem so surprised. "...So how does it make you feel knowing that?"

"...It doesn't," the soldier replied dully. In his eyes, that brightness he showed around her was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead with an empty glare.

He'd changed on a dime, from the helpful boy who always followed Ms. Maka around, to a stoic young man who no longer seemed so friendly. That warm feeling he felt before was gone now, nothing left to fill its void except a strange bitterness that wasn't there a minute ago. Whether he realized it or not, his change was obvious; the silence between them had become awkward and strained. Crona didn't know how to deal with it, so for the most part he ignored it. For once, Ms. Maka wasn't the answer to this crippling anxiety in him.

On the outside he shrugged it off, deciding not to say anything more on the subject. His eyes no longer on the young woman in front of him, he instead turned his head towards journal that lay between them both. On a whim he picked it up and glanced at the title, the name _Eibon_ in simple gold print standing out over the dirty leather it was written on. As he examined it, a tingling in the back of his head told the boy to open it up and see what was inside. More than likely that's why Ms. Maka had called him over in the first place anyway, to look at it, until both of them got side tracked.

He turned the cover without enthusiasm, not expecting much besides gibberish for words. Turns out that was exactly what it was to him; a bunch of squiggly lines, rounded out by more squiggly lines and a few dots. It was kind of a letdown, seeing as how he'd risked everything to get this book to Ms. Maka and in the end she couldn't even read it. With all the books in Lord Grin's library at her disposal, there wasn't a single one that could help them. He ought to know, considering he'd been standing watch for days as she poured through each one twice.

Feeling even more bitter, the little Reaper let Eibon's journal fall on the table before resting his head on a curled fist. At this point there was nothing more to do, all their options exhausted to the point of desperation. At a sad attempt to pass the time, Crona looked around the library and began reading the spines of each book one by one. When that failed to keep his attention for more than a few minutes, he gave a dramatic sigh and threw his head to table. Maka frowned as she watched him fiddle with journal, poking it and messing with its tattered leather binding. Like a child he focused all his attention on the tiny object and with it the brunt of his frustrations. Flipping it over upside down, he pretended that doing so would be suddenly fix everyone's problems.

As if turning over some text would suddenly make it readable. Such a thing only happened stories, but what else did he have to lose? So flipping over to the first page, Crona mused sullenly as he poured over the reading and pretended to understand it. Of course as he predicted, everything still looked like gibberish to him. However, the young soldier started to perk a little in his chair as he continued to follow the text down the page. Nothing about this book made sense to him, but for some reason this tiny feeling in the back of his head returned. It pecked at his brain, pulled him deeper into the text than he thought he could go. His eyes suddenly grew wide and in his mind's eye he was running towards something, something just barely out of reach.

Maka noticed as the air around him shifted, back from bitter young man to excited boy again. "Crona, what is it?"

The Reaper remained hunched over, his entire face buried in the book as his eyes went back and forth at a million miles an hour. It was as if he was no longer in control, instead being compelled by some outside force to continue digging deeper. He didn't respond at all to Maka, which quickly concerned her. Not only that, but in a minute he'd already sped through at least a quarter of the whole thing. The pages flew by in his hands, with him barely even taking the time to read anything. Another minute and he would have nearly been done with the whole thing.

Just before he reached the halfway point, Maka suddenly jumped up from her chair and got in the boy's face. "Dammit, Crona! Answer me!"

Her face twisted when his possessed state only continued. Quickly it became apparent that something was horribly wrong and as the final straw, she grabbed the journal from him and slammed it face down on the table. At that moment there was no resistance from Crona, in fact he hardly even moved an inch. Hunched, wide-eyed, still locked in a blank stare as if the journal was still in his hands. Finally after a few tense seconds he blinked, his senses slowly starting to return to him. Maka sighed in relief as he looked down and flexed his stony digits, then shot his eyes right back up at her. In them was no longer that depression from before, but instead a million different things flying around in a mad dash to get through.

The corners of Crona's lips curled. In his excitement, there was no hiding the amazed smile on his face. "I know the language, Ms. Maka!"

"What are you talking abou-" she began to question, before the boy pointed towards Eibon's journal. "You mean you can translate it?"

He shook his head firmly, "Of course not, it's written in Theban; the _Witch's__Alphabet_. I don't suppose there's anyone still alive who could."

"...Crona, what happened to you just now?" Maka asked, concern heavy on her voice as she reluctantly reached over to pick up the journal.

"I can read it," is all he said in reply. Reclining in his chair without a care in the world, it was apparent that he had no intention of questioning _how._

Still wearing the biggest smile on his face, Crona threw his arms behind his head and waited for Ms. Maka to say something. The latter of course could only stand there and stare, at a loss of words for just how different he looked all of a sudden. In his face, the boy's usual subservient self was replaced with a distinct look of confidence that seemed all too familiar to her; Soul had made it his trademark. All the more reason why she struggled to find an explanation for what'd just happened, how a nearly illiterate Reaper soldier had cracked a code she couldn't.

And to top it all off she now had a new problem to worry about. Witches were something she'd only just recently learned about, but even then Maka knew that The Grim didn't keep any records on them. He was stubborn, again just like Soul, and his reasoning was that a group like the immortals should be erased from history altogether. Basically that meant probably no one in Death could help her out, certainly not Kidd since this whole thing was a secret from in the first place. To the young woman it was just one thing after another and things were increasingly becoming harder to sort. With Crona and Eibon only making matters worse, Maka scratched her head frantically and growled with exasperation.

Crona's smile waned when the Angel fell into a chair across from him and looked him dead in the eyes. "Pretend for a second I accept what just happened to you. What is Theban?"

"It's the script that Witches use to write spells," he recited back to her, as if ingrained in his head. "It's old, really old. One of the hardest languages in the entire world."

"Okay then, so if you can't tell me how to read it, who can?" she shot back, hopeful that this freakish new knowledge Crona had would work to her advantage.

Unfortunately, all the frail soldier could do was shrug and offer an apology. Likewise, it was the final straw in Maka's insanely long night. With another growl she let her head fall to the table in total defeat, exhausted both mentally and physically. Still determined to figure things out though, she already started thinking of ways to find a key to the strange alphabet. Maybe there were still some books she hadn't read, and maybe Kidd wasn't obtuse enough to throw away all the information of a hated group of enemies. Of course, that was a lot of maybes to rely on...dammit, so much crap running through her head it was ridiculous. So mind-numbing in fact were all these thoughts that she didn't even notice as the door to the library suddenly creaked open.

Under the archway, passed some bookshelves, a man of familiar face made his way towards the group of two. He took his time, practically dragging his feet along the floor to give them a heads up to his presence. Still, he was so quiet that neither heard him coming until it was already too late. By the time Crona casually lifted his head to watch over the door like he was supposed to, it came as a complete shock to the boy when he suddenly found himself in the presence of the Reaper army's second-in-command. Crona's mouth opened wide to say something to the man but couldn't even make a sound. Instead he just sat there, mouth agape, as the surprise visitor loomed over Ms. Maka without her knowing. A dirty sneer tugged at loosely at his face.

_"You know, for someone concerned with laying low, you're pretty fucking loud."_

In an instant, the lady angel went from laying down to bolt upright. Her eyes twisted with horror; she'd heard that voice before and had hoped to never hear it again. Right behind Maka, a chilling breath lofted down her neck and spine that felt all too familiar. With Crona catching her face as she turned, the young woman already knew who it was before he sneered even more arrogantly. With a bitter scowl, she looked the sleazy man over and found the entire situation to be some cruel joke. He in turn leaned over and put his face right in hers.

Dull brown eyes stared deeply into her own, too dead and full of hate to be any vibrant color. Golden brown hair topped his head, spikier on one side than it was on the other. In his mouth were razor teeth indicative of Soul Eaters, though only the white Reaper's could compare in actual sharpness. Everything about him screamed at Maka to back away and run, but she didn't. His presence in front of her only pissed the young woman off, mostly because of this heat in the pit of her stomach. He was a threat and needed to be dealt with, for the sake of her unborn baby.

"G-General Giriko! What are you doing here?" Crona stuttered from behind, reading the tense atmosphere just fine.

Raising a brow, the frightening man continued to hover over Maka. "Heard some yelling, got bored. Figured I might find something."

"So you wandered in here like a pathetic puppy looking for attention," the woman shot back angrily. "You're a pitiful excuse for a man and Reaper!"

Giriko gave a dark chuckle. "Well, well, well. Looks like hanging around Eater gave you some balls, eh? Then again, I know that's not the only thing he gave you."

Crona's eyes grew wide when all of a sudden he was forced to watch his superior officer bring his face even closer to Ms. Maka's. Their noses practically touching at this point, they stared each other down before Giriko's interest wandered elsewhere. It was at this point when the little bodyguard jumped up from his chair and marched towards the pair; when Giriko put his nose in the crook of Maka's neck and started sniffing her like she was food. It enraged the boy, more so than he ever imagined, and without hesitation he went over and pulled his superior off her.

"Sir, Commander Free appointed me to be Ms. Maka's bodyguard! It's my job to protect her!" he stated with conviction, puffing out his chest.

"I can smell that parasite a mile away," Giriko sneered, completely ignoring the skinny soldier in front of him. "It reeks of failure, just like his crap father!"

Maka jumped up from her chair and glared pure poison. "Don't you _dare_talk about my baby like that! Especially when you can't even stand up to Soul on a moving train!"

"Everyone stop fighting! What's gotten into you?" Crona shouted over them, only be ignored once more when the hostile pair started going at each other's throats yet again.

He didn't know what the cause of all this was. How General Giriko even knew the Angel was a mystery to him, but that part wasn't important right now. It was his job to control the situation and while normally the quietest one in a room, that mental image of Ms. Maka being sniffed like a piece of meat was enough to rile the boy up. Even though he was low on the totem pole, it was well within his right as bodyguard to kick a superior officer out the library. At the very least, he could handle things now and then suffer the consequences for it later.

There was only one way to do that and he didn't have much time, since things were already so tense. Even though he'd never done it before, it wasn't hard for him; summoning a weapon was second nature to all Reapers. Hands at his sides, purple lightning arced from each finger and crackled like fire in the tiny library. Immediately both Maka and Giriko stopped, the latter of whom took a few steps back as Crona raised his arm a second later to reveal for the first time his blade. Made of jet black metal on either side, a solid white stripe ran down its center, ending in a bizarre hilt of metal spikes. In his hands the sword trembled, its master not used to the weight or even holding onto it. But all the same he made his point; stay away.

"General, I'm asking you to please leave..." Crona stopped to swallow the growing lump in his throat. "My job is to protect Ms. Maka, so, I'm sorry."

Giriko took one look at the boy's weapon and whistled. "A soul-eating sword, eh? No wonder Free's kept you around, I haven't seen one of those since the witch hunts!"

Crona flinched, surprised that even summoning his sword wasn't enough to diffuse the situation. "Sir, I don't know why you two hate each other so much, but-"

"-You know, to an average Reaper, that thing would be a death sentence," the Soul Eater intruded. "But since I'm second in Spartoi, I don't have to worry about things like that"

All the color immediately drained from the bodyguard's face at the mention of Spartoi; he had no idea General Giriko was a member. "S-Sir? What do you mean...?"

The Reaper suddenly bore his fangs, **"That means there's nobody in this fucking mansion who can threaten me, least of all a shit-for-brain newblood!"**

As if a whirlwind suddenly picked up in the room, books flew open to reveal their pages as the air whipped into a frenzy around them. Crona realized in utter horror that it was Giriko causing it all by himself, the force of him summoning his own weapon enough to throw the young soldier on his ass. On the ground and dumbstruck, he watched as the general's arms and legs erupted into a sea of saw-teeth. Nearly as sharp as the ones in his mouth, they lined along his extremities evenly in a sort of belt. At the same time, a horrid buzzing noise started ringing through Crona's ears; the blades themselves were moving, so fast he couldn't make out the individual pieces. They screeched with each rotation...there must have been a thousand rotations a minute.

And the man just stood there, his eyes piercing and violent. Nothing about him was held back, his power was on display for all too see and fear. Finally, Crona realized who he was dealing with. A monster of a man whose strength was unparalleled, with an anger that knew no equal. Like some kind of twisted version of Eater, Giriko stood before him with a painfully evil menace plastered across his face. There was a time bomb behind that look of his, one that was sure to go off with even the slightest provocation. On the surface, Crona felt like there was nothing worse than this. Such a sight was enough to make him shake, but deep down he knew that the second-in-command of the Reaper army was capable of far worse and it terrified him.

Subconsciously, the boy let his sword disappear into nothingness. Thoughtfully, obediently, like a child who was in trouble, he never took his eyes of the general as the wind around him slowly started to subside. In his stupor, Maka quietly came behind him and picked the soldier up as Giriko watched with his quickly calming demeanor. She bore holes into the man's head, but all he did was sneer back in victory over her. Between them both Crona remained silent, his eyes to the floor in shame. Unable to fulfill his duties as bodyguard, there was nothing more he could do.

"If anyone's going to be leaving here, it's you." Pointing his finger, the general singled out his subordinate. "Me and the _Angel_ here have things we need to discuss."

"...What? No! I'm not going to leave-!" Crona started to shout back in protest, even as Giriko immediately bore his teeth the way all Soul Eaters do when livid.

The young Reaper flinched but didn't back down. He was already going through a thousand different escape routes in his head, desperate to find one that would work in the next few seconds. There was no fight; the battle was lost before it even started. To go up against a member of Spartoi was suicide, but there was no way he'd leave Ms. Maka with someone like _him!_Eater was counting on him! And the baby! Whatever Giriko wanted with her it didn't matter, Crona wouldn't listen to somebody who...who looked so eager to kill somebody. Like he enjoyed it.

Quickly he settled on a plan; run like hell and go for the window. It sounded good at first, the library was only on the second floor after all. It was the easiest way to get Ms. Maka out quickly, but then he remembered one very tiny detail; the baby wouldn't like that very much. Then things really hit rock bottom when Crona realized that _all_of his plans involved jumping out the window. Suddenly the anxiety swept over him again as Giriko started walking towards him. There was no time to think of anything else, and the stress was getting to him. Sweat started to bead on his forehead...

"-Crona, it's fine." Out from behind him, the woman he was trying to save spoke all too calmly, "You being here is only going to make things more complicated. It won't be long."

Crona froze for a second before turning around to face her. His eyes wide with disbelief, he found her as calm as she sounded. "Ms. Maka, there's no way I'm leaving you!"

"When it comes to the baby, I wouldn't put myself in danger. Just believe me when I say I can handle things on my own from here," she told him simply.

With only a pat on the boy's shoulder for reassurance, Maka came out from behind him and made her way towards the hulking madman. Giriko stopped dead in his tracks, the anger on his face giving way to surprise as the woman came willingly. Crona, on the other hand, wouldn't accept blood on his hands. He reached desperately for Ms. Maka's hand, hoping to stop her before she did something everyone would regret. And for a moment she did stop, though it was against her will more than anything. The little Reaper held her firmly place, him literally quivering in his boots.

"You're not strong enough to go off on your own like that!" he pleaded, eyes wild with fear. "I have to protect you! Eater told me to!"

Not even looking back, Maka sighed. "Crona, this is something personal. I appreciate the sentiment, I really do, but you have to leave. Now."

"No! I won't!" he shouted back at her. "I'm your bodyguard, if anyone's going to die it's going to be me! You have to run and get out of here and-!"

At this point Ms. Maka turned around and for a moment, Crona hoped that he'd find her usually sweet face. Part of him wished she'd be touched by his determination, maybe even the way he was willing to lay down his pathetically terrible life for her own. That's what he wanted, but that's not how things turned out. Instead, the young Reaper was cut short of his childish ranting by the gaze of a woman whose eyes could cut steel. Normally a solid emerald, darkness crept into them like giant pools. Around her, an aura that sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

_"Crona," _she said with voice he'd never heard before, one that was far too commanding for a nice lady like her. _"I said leave. _**_Now._**_"_

Thoughts. Emotions. Will. Gone. All of it, no longer there. Dignity was nowhere to be found in him, instead replaced with a compulsion to fulfill. An order from The Grim, that's what it was...a Reaper can't ignore a Grim. Mind numb and eyes half-glazed over, Crona found himself walking past Ms. Maka when seconds ago he argued against it. But that was okay. _But it wasn't. _He was just doing what The Grim told him to do. _But he wasn't._ Things happening in his head and in his eyes weren't adding up. His brain would be hurting right now if it wasn't so _empty _right now. So empty.

_"So that's the thing Kidd warned me about!"_ he heard General Giriko laugh while mindlessly walking by him. _"Nice party trick, but it won't work on Reapers like me."_

To the door. Out the door. Close the door. _Stop. _Turn around. Face the hall. Take a step. _Stop! _Down the hall. Other way. Find the exit. **_Stop!_**The farther away he walked from that library, the more Crona's senses started to slowly trickle back into him. His compulsion still kept the better of him, but he tried his damnedest to fight it. When his body told him to take five steps, he only took four. Eventually, he brought it down to two. And by the time he made it down to the first floor of Gallows Manor, the young Reaper had finally regained his wits.

On the very last step of a winding staircase, Crona leaned over and panted heavily. As though he'd just ran a marathon, every part of his body ached. His breath had left him and in the back of his head, this distinctive feeling of disgust loomed over him. He had no idea what'd just happened, only that whatever it was felt kind of like when he opened that book back in the library. But the book only made him feel giddy, like he was figuring something out. Like he was important...unlike whatever this was. This was just him being a pawn, following orders...being disposable.

Like cannon fodder.

Ms. Maka...wouldn't do something like that to him. She was really nice, and sweet and pretty and...a good person. Giriko. He was the one who made everything go wrong, everything was fine until he showed up. So what if he was his superior? That didn't stop the anger from building up in Crona's chest, a hurt sadness that made his eyes turn red and moist. The little Reaper ground his teeth and knew he had to go back upstairs, Ms. Maka was waiting for him. She still needed him...he needed her too, and Giriko wasn't going to hurt her. No, he'd make sure of that.

In his blind loyalty, he threw all his questions about what just happened to the sidelines. Maka's anger, Giriko's comments, none of it meant anything to him at the moment. All Crona cared about was knowing that Eater's family was safe. He was the only one who could make sure that happened. With that thought in mind, the boy struggled through his sudden loss of energy and managed. Sucking in air, he turned around and started back up the stairs. His hand on the guard rail to guide him, he trudged through the first few steps like marsh water.

For the most part he stayed focused. It took him a minute to climb up the stairs, but when he finally did air suddenly filled his starved lungs and his limbs didn't feel so heavy anymore. His mind was clearer and using that to his advantage he ran through the directions towards Lord Grim's personal library as he walked. He had no plan though for when he got there, in fact no real thoughts came to his head besides the Angel's safety. In the immediate future he'd come to regret his recklessness, considering he never stopped to ask how she got her title in the first place.

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**A.N.**

Hey everyone, sorry for such a late update. I try to keep it under a month but, between me being a goober and school and work, things took much longer than they should have and I apologize.

I actually do have some good news though. Next month is the NaNoWriMo contest, which I will be taking part in. If you don't know what that is, basically you try to write a novel in one month and if you finish it they'll make a copy for you for free. Personally I don't think I'll be finishing, but I'm going to try my damnedest to write a whole novel in 30 days. A chapter will be iffy during that time frame, but even if I don't post at least I'll have an original story that you may/may not want to read when I come back (please do)

Thanks for all the follows and favs, I really enjoy giving you guys stuff to read. Please review and lemme know what you think, and I'll try to have a chapter out soon.


	5. Fighting for the People who Matter

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Soul Eater

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**Chapter Five**

**-Fighting for the People who Matter-**

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She couldn't hold it in any longer.

The moment Crona left, that's probably when it happened.

When this feeling of hatred suddenly started to boil forth from somewhere deep within her, a kind of feeling she herself didn't know existed. There was no one there, nothing to stop her from finally looking at that son-of-a-bitch dead in the eyes and doing the unthinkable. It didn't matter to her that_ General Giriko_ was number two in Spartoi, nor that he was obviously the less stable of the three. After what she'd gone through with Kidd, maybe her boldness thought that nothing could be worse than taking her hand and slapping the shit out of a Grim. Technically, that was right. Nothing was.

But Giriko was an exception to that rule.

When others had restraint and respect, he had none of those things.

Just as quickly as he'd received it, with a chuckle he dished it right back. Admittedly, Maka's eyes grew huge with shock as the towering man whom she'd just assaulted rebounded with vigor and a sneer. Almost like he'd planned on her doing that, Giriko used that momentum against her. He swung around and with a closed fist, pounded the Eventide Angel once in the jaw. With inhuman delight, he watched her fall towards the floor like a child enthralled. She didn't land on her back like he'd expected, but firmly on her rump. Which might've been a problem for the baby, but the kid was a Grim. He'd live.

For Giriko the confrontation was fun. Maka, on the other hand, suddenly found herself horrified beyond reason. Staying at Gallows Manor, having everyone follow her around without cause, maybe clouded her reason. Now as she sat there on the floor, trying to fix her jaw like a fighter in the ring, reality came crashing back to the forefront. This situation was real; Giriko was not going to take her crap. And though she kept telling herself that she wasn't going to take his either, in the pit of her stomach she knew that really it wasn't up to her, it was up to _him._

"Kidd's spoiled the shit out of you," Spartoi's second-in-command sneered. "Thinking you can do whatever you want just because you're the mother of a god."

Maka looked at him before giving a weary sneer herself, then proceeded to spit before saying his name. "Giriko, at least Lord Grim knows never to piss off a lady."

"I don't see a lady. All I see is a bitch." The change in his demeanor was quick; from almost-playful to serious. It caught Maka off guard, and for a moment she flinched.

That in turn gave the Reaper general enough time to waltz over to the downed woman, stick his face in hers and mutter, "Tell me what that book says before I strangle you."

Immediately Maka's eyes grew wide; not because she was surprised or taken aback, but rather due to the fact that now she knew what Giriko wanted from her. And that went hand-in-hand with what was in that book, which was still a mystery to her as well...not that she could tell him that. He'd already proven himself to be more than unstable, not just now but the other time she'd met him on the Runaway Express. If he knew that she couldn't tell him what he wanted, then...she'd rather not think about what he might resort to doing in order to get what he wanted.

"Tell me why you want it!" Maka ordered, with that boldness that knew no end. She couldn't seem weak, or else whatever she had planned wouldn't work.

"I don't have to tell you shit, woman." Baring his razor-sharp teeth, Giriko put on his best intimidating face to date. And it almost worked, too.

But Maka was persistent, "I haven't even read it yet, and I'm the only who can! So tell me what the book is or I tell you nothing!"

The Reaper only continued his menacing glare. But after another minute of waiting, he finally broke. "Goddamn you!"

With his hand, he pushed off her. Maka fell backwards from the force, landing on her back like Giriko originally wanted her to. Thankfully he wasn't sticking around to hover over her like she feared he would. No, he instead jumped up to his feet and marched around like he was trying his very best not to strangle somebody. That in turn gave Maka enough time to recover and likewise stand up, before he changed his mind and used that awkward position against her. She wiggled her jaw and found it creaked a little with each movement. Hopefully nothing was broken.

Giriko made a detour in his erratic march, going straight for the book on the table they had gradually migrated away from a while ago. It trembled in his hands, the excitement and frustration in him clear with every twitch of his muscles. Maka watched him wearily as with his other hand, the Reaper grabbed a table without missing a beat; it was as if the thing were made of paper. Unwittingly displaying his terrifying strength, Giriko dropped the massively heavy piece of furniture onto the ground with a crash. Maka jumped back, dumbstruck as the book plopped onto the table in front of her.

"Cozy? Brought a table and everything, you should be thanking me." Giriko scowled, clearly being an asshole.

The Eventide Angel could be one as well. Unfortunately, she didn't have a filter in situations like these. "What, no chair?"

Immediately, the Reaper general's eyes grew wild. For a moment there, Maka genuinely thought he was going to lose it and strike at her again. But instead, he seemed to pull it together at the last second and keep his cool. Likewise, Giriko humored her. With a scowl still heavy on his face, the man turned around and kicked a chair into the air. Maka watched as it came hurdling down, going straight for the floor. At this point, Giriko kicked it again mid-air and sent it flying towards her. With a yelp, she threw her hands up and prayed that she'd catch it. Luckily for her, she did.

"There, now can we get on with this? I don't have all day!" the Reaper complained, slightly whiny in his tone. He motioned for her to sit.

Reluctantly, Maka placed the chair on the ground and took her seat. Again, the situation seemed turned against her. "Alright, I'm listening, Giriko."

"Good, cuz I'm only saying this once," he grumbled back, taking his seat on the corner of the table. "The book's made by an elder god by the name of Eibon-"

"-An _elder god?_" Maka interrupted immediately, eyes wider than when he'd decided to punch her; already something new. "Is that somehow different from the Grim?"

Giriko rolled his eyes, "That's just what they call the gods before Kidd. It's not really important, they're all gone now. What _is _important is that Eibon was the god of knowledge."

Reaching over, he grabbed the book and flipped it over to the back-cover. Tossing it back to Maka, she caught it with both hands and looked for herself. On the page itself was a picture she'd already seen before, the likeness of a bizarre-looking man in funny clothes. His face was hidden by a mask, while strange robes covered his entire body. Where his hands should be were knives, or swords, that slightly imitated the structure of a hand. The image was the first thing she saw when Crona brought her the book, but she couldn't for the life of her understand who it was.

"That's Eibon, the freak." His scowl returning, Giriko practically spat at the god's name. "Him and Shinigami were always together, some crap about death and wisdom going hand-in-hand."

"...So I take it they were close?" She already knew the answer to that question. Her brain was kicking in, already matching the pieces of this puzzle together. She just needed time.

Giriko, ignoring her comment, continued, "Once Shinigami died, Eibon hit the road. So all that left was his book, which he used to write down everything about everything."

Maka's ears perked at the words as they were spoken; everything about everything? Did that mean, well, _everything?_ She looked up at Giriko, who simply stared back with that dull look in his eyes. To him it wasn't all that exciting, meaning what he wanted didn't really lay in the fact that the god of knowledge himself wrote the book. It had more to do with the fact that Shinigami was involved, at least that's what she thought, anyway. Otherwise why else would he mention it? And if it was something he could do without getting into trouble, why not just ask Kidd?

"...You're sneaking around behind The Grim's back." Muttering under her breath, Maka stared hard into the eyes of the beast.

He likewise returned the gesture, tugging at his ear with a grin, "You're smart. If anyone could tell me how to use Hunter, it'd be you."

Suddenly, the excitement returned full force to Giriko's harsh glare. Hunter, whatever that word meant, was the key to turning him back into a giddy, sadistic Reaper. Without taking his eyes off the angel, he stepped backwards. His arms held outward as if to embrace something, he continued his recession until stopping somewhere in the middle of the library. And as soon as his feet planted firmly on the ground, filed-teeth erupted from his mouth in a huge sneer as a whirlwind started to whip forth like before. Maka jumped in her seat; his recklessness knew no bounds.

With a shrill squeal, his blades made their appearance once more. This time however, they seemed much more ominous. "I told you what I wanted, so how about it? Read the damn thing!"

Maka looked the Reaper up and down, not a hint of emotion on her face. "You didn't really tell me anything. First tell me what Hunter is and why you want it so badly. Then I'll read."

"I don't think you're in much of a position to haggle!" Giriko barked back, his sneer quickly devolving into a scowl. "I'll work my blades through your skin. Slowly. _Painfully._"

Determined to get what he wanted, he madman decided to display his full force. If the Eventide Angel was going to act all high and mighty, then he'd be the one to put the bitch back in her place. With a wild look in his eyes, Giriko let the full extent of his weapon be known. He watched with great pleasure as the woman before him grew numb with fear the moment his blades left his body. Her face contorted into horror when they left their predetermined track along his skin and instead wriggled through the air like snakes. Still glowing bright white, they were now twice as deadly.

And what's more, they kept coming. More steel snakes erupted from Giriko's body, as if he himself were made of gears and metal. It didn't seem to bother him, in fact he seemed to be enjoying himself from Maka's point of view. She tried her best to hide it, but knew the Reaper could see her lack of confidence all the same. Still, she tried her best to stand in the face of hundreds of saw blades. Sitting down was no longer an option; it would seem like she was being submissive, defeated. And that was the last thing she needed right now, if anything the time called for more defiance.

"You're forgetting your place, _Giriko!_" she practically hissed, the mere mention of his name tasting like trash. "If you want to surpass Kidd, then you need to shut up and tell me what I want to know!"

Almost immediately, the shrill squeals of burning metal stopped. In Giriko's eyes the intensity dissipated, if only for a moment. "And what led you that conclusion, mother-to-be?"

Maka leaned over the table and glared back with a sneer, "You're easy. That's all. Whatever this Hunter is, you want it to surpass Kidd. If it was to kill Soul, you'd just ask him."

"...Well, you're a shrewd little cunt, aren't you?" Giriko replied with narrowed eyes, as Maka's did the same right back at him. He stared her down, but it didn't last long.

After another tense moment, things ended unceremoniously. Finally giving into the stubbornness that was Maka Albarn, Giriko grumbled a meager _fine_ before retracting the hundreds of metal chains back into his body. They made clanking noises as they disappeared inside him, causing Maka to think that he really was made of steel on the inside. His coldness would certainly make sense, especially after all was said and done, when he quite casually returned to the table and sat back down where he had been before. With his hands, he motioned for her to do the same.

"I'm fine, thank you," she grumbled with a sarcastic smile. Giriko returned the expression, so very close to punching her in the mouth again.

"Let's get on with this!" Growling, he threw his arms behind his head and looked at the ceiling. "So this Hunter thing, I don't know what it is exactly."

Maka's snark confidence all of a sudden plummeted. "What do you mean, _you don't know what it is_? All of this bitching for me to tell you and you don't know!"

"They're techniques, alright! Or just one, I don't know for sure. All I know is, to be a Grim, you have to know what they are!" Giriko rubbed his eyes in frustration.

Pulling a complete one-eighty, Maka's excitement jumped once more; up until this point, after reading all the books in Kidd's library, she'd never known of other criteria in order to become a Grim. As far as she and everyone else knew, all you had to be was half Reaper and half Grigori. But with this new little bit of information, some things started to make sense to her. If they were techniques that only a Grim could learn, then maybe they took a long time to master. And if that was the case, then it wouldn't be a stretch to say that it took months or even years.

...Maybe, that was why Kidd was so worried about the Reapers. Slowly it started to make sense to her and the more she thought about it, the more Maka herself grew worried with the realization that, maybe her baby couldn't become a full fledged Grim in time to save everyone. Kidd already said he was going to die, he already expected that, but how long would he be around? Would he teach the baby all these techniques? Were they even _teachable_? Or would he even accept him at all? Would Kidd let all the Reapers die because he couldn't handle another child taking the throne?

Did...she even want her baby to be a Grim in the first place?

Excitement quickly turned to dejection. Dejection in turn left only bitterness in its wake. The weight of the situation Maka found herself in now finally began sinking in, making her grow cold in this loneliness that she thought she'd overcome weeks ago. Looking down at Giriko, finding those devilish teeth peaking through his lips, it only made her miss Soul all the more. She needed him, plain and simple. Not to save her or beat up Kidd and save the day, no nothing like that. Just to be that person to hold onto and remind her that everything will work out in the end, because it always does.

She needed that so badly right now, but it wouldn't happen. Maka knew that, which is why she sucked it up as best she could. "So these techniques...do you know what they are? What do they do?"

"Channel the powers of death and magic slaying, some shit like that. I dunno, Kidd mentioned it once before during the witch hunts," Giriko shrugged, pretending not to notice the sudden slunk in her posture.

"How are they learned? Do you just read a book and it's like step-by-step instructions or something?" Maka pried, trying to learn everything she could about it before Giriko got wise.

At this point however, he was getting close. "Eibon's the one who invented them for Shinigami. The only way to learn is by reading his book, or learning from a Grim who already knows them."

Covering her face with her hands in frustration, Maka reared back and let out a desperate growl. "You're not telling me what I want to know! Is the baby going to be able to learn in time or not-?"

"...I don't think I'm going to tell you that." Giriko's demeanor quickly changed back to his threatening stance, his patience finally at its limit. "I'm done with this bullshit, Eventide Angel."

Confidence betrayed the young woman; she thought for sure that things would go her way as it had the entire conversation. Every time Giriko had exploded, she'd managed to wrangle him back down long enough to milk him for information. This time however, Maka quickly found that such a trick wouldn't work any longer. When Giriko calmly got up from the table and locked eyes with her, the psychotic playfulness completely gone from his stare, she immediately took a step back. And that was her first mistake, to show weakness like that. Giriko was a monster, one who could smell fear.

"-S-Sit back down!" Maka commanded. She cursed herself for stuttering, but the way that Reaper looked at her, it would've turned anyone's blood ice cold.

It was her second and abruptly last mistake. In no time, the power had shifted to Giriko, who menaced over her with a quiet sort of anger. The table between them was no barrier, it never had been. Maka tried to find safety behind it, but was reminded quickly that Spartoi's second had no problem pushing the thing aside like a throw pillow. With one arm he slid it across the floor, causing a horrible screeching sound that echoed throughout the library. And just like that it was the two of them again, with nothing stopping Giriko from get what he wanted.

She was cornered. "Alright, I'll read the damn book! You win, okay? Just go sit down over there or something and I'll get to work...!"

It didn't work. No response came from the man, his only reply being the slight twinge of anger that pulled at his brow. Maka hesitated, realizing now that it wasn't about reading a book anymore. Something she'd said had made him furious, only this wasn't how she'd expect him to act. Contrary to his normal behavior, Giriko was calm; boiling on the inside, but methodically quiet otherwise. She didn't know how to handle this new side of him and quite frankly it scared her. She didn't know what he was going to do, nor how to respond.

Sweat started to bead on her forehead when he started walking towards her. Instinctively she stepped backwards to avoid him, but his stride was far greater than hers. Before she knew it, Giriko was in her personal space. His lips were spread to reveal a tightly clenched jaw, teeth bright, white, and intimidating. She shrunk underneath his wide-eyed glare, his expression making him look like he was seeing right through her. God was he quiet. It wouldn't have been so bad if he was loud, but she couldn't handle the silence. It was unnerving. _What was he planning on doing...?_

"...You really think..." he whispered gruffly, putting his face into hers. "...That bastard son is gonna become Grim?"

Her eyes grew wide. Wider than any time before. Wider than anything else on earth could make them, because nothing mattered to her more than her baby. The little child she'd neglected this whole time, the baby she'd made with Soul that she swore to Crona that nothing bad would happen to her. She was a terrible mother. She didn't react when Giriko raised his fist behind him, didn't so much as blink when he brought it up to her stomach and with all the force he had, uppercut her right where the baby was. There wasn't even a bump there. How could he have known where the baby was?

She was a terrible mother.

It's all Maka could think when she hit the floor. Falling on her side, flopping like a fish out of water, she didn't make a sound. It didn't hurt when her head hit the floor, nothing could have made her hurt anymore than what she felt in her stomach. It was a pain that transcended the body and went straight to her heart. Tears quickly began to flow like water from an open pipe, her eyes stuck open as if unable to close. She curled up and immediately clutched the point of impact, unable to think or say anything. It was all just a primal need at this point. She needed her baby.

"No part of Eater will _ever_ become Grim, you got that!" Giriko boomed, pointing his finger at the downed woman. "Kidd's pet! That's all he ever was! A fucking lowlife! He never worked for anything!"

No amount of screaming on the Reaper's part could break her out of the shell Maka had made for herself. In that moment, she was in her own little world; quiet, secluded, dark. An empty black room where she could hide away from the world and contemplate how horrible everything was. Her child, oh god her child. She sobbed and choked, trying to breathe in long enough for her to think. Was the baby okay? That's all that mattered. Maka didn't care how much that punch hurt, because like fucking hell it did. He was Spartoi's number two. He could have killed them both.

"I'll fucking kill you, the baby, that fucking lowlife! Then Kidd's ass is mine, and after that I'll fucking kill Free too!" Giriko ranted. He continued on, but Maka didn't hear the rest.

She didn't care enough to listen. The only thing she heard was Giriko wanted to kill the baby. He said it out loud. The bastard was going to finish what he started, right here and now. Maka's tears continued to fall, but the sobbing abruptly ended. There wasn't any time for it, not when there was a maniac leering over her ready to kill both her and the baby. But that was the thing, what Giriko had said; he was _going_ to kill the baby, meaning he hadn't already done so yet. Even after that insanely strong punch, both she and her child were okay. And immediately, it clicked.

Her son was a Grim. _A god of death._

Kidd had a hole in his chest and still lived. A punch like that, she now realized, wouldn't be nearly enough to kill a Grim. And it also dawned on her that the pain she'd first felt after getting punched was now gone, as if suddenly her constitution was much higher now. Just as quickly as the sobs had stopped, so too did the tears when she came to the conclusion that maybe being the mother of a god had more perks than she'd realized. It wasn't just a title. She felt better now, almost more so than before, as if coming close to death for that split second had made her better because of it.

Giriko kept bellowing, but it was all just background noise to Maka. He must have commented on her sitting up, though the only thing Maka could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat. Call it a mother's intuition, but somehow she knew it was beating for two. What's more, this burning feeling in the pit of her stomach was different, completely different from the pain of Giriko's punch. It was a fire that tried to tell her something; maybe her own conscious, maybe the stubbornness of an Eater/Albarn child who'd yet to be born. In the end it didn't matter what it was, because the message was all the same anyway;

_Get on your feet._

Wiping away the snot and tears from her face, that defeated look in Maka's stare was no more. The fire in her stomach now burned in her eyes and she stumbled to her feet in obedience. That same feeling told her not to be afraid of Giriko, that somehow everything would be fine. And part of Maka, the small portion that really did believe it was the baby supporting her, gave herself up to the voice. She put her all into believing that things would work out. It allowed her emotions to run wild inside her once-empty body, all of them coming out at the same time, struggling to burst.

She was happy the baby was okay. She was sad that Soul was gone. She was worried what Giriko might do to everyone. But above all else, she was angry. Livid. Infuriated, even. That Giriko would have the balls to willingly put the life of her family in danger, it was unforgivable. To threaten Soul, herself, and most of all the baby, it was the final nail in the coffin for him. Something had to be done and in that library, she was the only one who could. It had to stop here, she wouldn't let anything happen to Soul and the baby. For once, it was her turn to do something. She had to.

"You got up just like that? You know what happens next, right?" Giriko threatened her, getting in her personal space once more. "This time it'll be my foot in your-!"

"-**_I'm not taking your crap, Giriko!_**" Maka roared back with twice the force of him. **"_If you want a damsel in distress to kick around, you came to the wrong fricken library!_"**

Giriko seemed to stop completely. His eyes grew wide as she stared him down. But just as he quickly he rebounded, before grabbing her by the collar of her dress. "**_YOU FUCKING WHORE_****!**"

He raised his arm for the second time. As they both looked at each other for what Giriko assumed was the last time, he took no pleasure in putting his fist in her stomach a second time. It wasn't about pleasure anymore; he just wanted her, everyone, to just die. Kidd, Eater, all the other Reapers, all the humans, all the Grigories, in his world, they'd all be dead. This was one giant step towards that. Admittedly he would take joy in hearing her sputter and fall to the ground again, but for the moment it was all business. Her skin was soft, accepting of a closed fist. She'd die so quickly...

...But she didn't. Giriko snapped out of it just long enough to focus his attention on Maka, who certainly wasn't sputtering. She wasn't falling to the ground either, even though he was still hanging onto her collar. No, she was standing up straight, staring up at him as if nothing had happened. Just what the fuck was going on! He hit her almost as hard as he could, even a Reaper would be miserable after that. A Grigori would be dead. _She _should be dead! It angered him even more than he already was, and seeing that determined look she kept giving him only made matters worse.

"There are people I care about, Giriko..." With one arm, she grabbed a hold of the fist clenched around her collar. "...It's about time I start fighting for them."

That thing inside her suddenly broke free. A feeling she'd felt once before suddenly returned to the forefront of her mind, the same rush she'd had back when Soul was struck down by Kidd back in the theater. Only this time it was sort of different; this wasn't an overwhelming need to care for someone. She needed to fight and that voice inside her was there to help. From behind her, a familiar sight erupted from her shoulder blades, a million little rays of light that resembled feathers. Every one of them detailed and shining, just as brilliant as that time so many months ago.

But these feathers weren't white. They weren't the calling card of an angel ready to heal the sick. A fighter is what she must be.

An angel of death and the calling card of such; black feathers, as ebony and glossed as the night sky over Death.

It was in that moment that both she and Giriko agreed on at least one thing together; they both knew why the Reapers called her the Eventide Angel. It wasn't just a title. It wasn't just because she had a Grim inside her, merely being the vessel for a new generation of Grim. No, even deeper than that still was the potential for both life and death. She wasn't just a healer, she could protect the people she cared about as well. And in that moment, Maka was going to do just that. For her child and Soul, maybe even Kidd, Free, and everyone else too. It would be over quickly.

So quick that Giriko didn't know how to respond. He just stood there, enthralled by the giant black wings that veiled the entire library. He didn't resist as Maka clutched his arm and held on tight, nor did he notice when some of the feathers turned ethereal and slithered up her arm onto his. Giriko couldn't have known that the mist burrowed into his skin, since they didn't leave a twinge of pain as it made its descent into his flesh. It was only once the feathers finished their journey that Giriko finally did notice, but by then it was already too late for him to repent to the Eventide Angel.

Pain. Unimaginable, unbearable, indescribable pain. Immediately Giriko let go of her and reeled back, clutching his arm with all his might as if holding back a cobra's poison from spreading in his veins. He threw his head to the ceiling and screamed bloody murder before falling to his knees, the sound of his blood curdling call making even Maka's hair stand on the back of her head. She watched in bitterness as the flesh slowly started to melt off his arm, exposing muscle, tissues, and eventually the bone itself. For a half-second, she thought she saw a gleam of metal, but then it was gone.

The rest of the scene could speak for itself. Giriko continued to scream. His arm continued to rot away until there was nothing left to decay. The entire time, Maka stood over him and stared with the slightest hint of sadness for him. The Reaper's agony finally ended when the hiss of water from his skin stopped and the pain ended just as quickly; with no flesh to hurt, the torture had ended. When all was finished, he simply collapsed to the floor face first. Still very much alive, only with one less arm to his name. He wouldn't be using it to hurt anyone ever again.

Maka stood before the fallen man. With a surprising softness, she muttered, "I didn't want to kill you."

Just like before, the wings on her back disappeared. Doomed never to stay, they at least vanished slower this time; each feather started to fall off, fading into nothingness after a second or two upon separating from her. Like dead rose petals, they were coarse compared to the white wings she'd had before. It fit the ominous feeling in the air; tragic beauty, obtainable only after death. All the trauma that'd happened in the library, it was strange to have something that could be called beautiful happen like that. But it only lasted for a moment. Just as quickly as the wings had come, they went.

Leaving behind a woman with questions and a man without an arm, whom she'd have trouble with later on, she was sure of it. Giriko would never forgive her for this, and it really only made things worse for her in the long run. She didn't get the answers she was looking for, and quite frankly Maka wasn't sure if she ever would. Now there was a definite enemy to worry about, another Grim on the way, crazy powers that she had possibly learned to figure out, and Kidd who knew of almost none of this. Standing there, slightly exhausted, Maka was more than overwhelmed.

But at least, for now, she could breathe a sigh of relief. And maybe, just maybe, pretend that her baby had been the one helping her all along.

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**A.N.**

So, uhm, I realize it's been quite a while since my last update. I sincerely apologize. I have a tendency to get into funks, but four months is just ridiculous. I'll try my very best in the future NOT to take that long to post a chapter again, especially now that things are picking up(?) in the story. As for people who are following this story, thank you for the favorites and sticking with this story, please feel free to comment or check out my tumblr page to possibly meet some other great authors who I hang out with frequently. Until the next update guys!


	6. A Piece of You

**Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater**

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**Eventide Angel**

**by. **Lacrow

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**-A Piece of You-**

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His head snapped up immediately. In the span of a moment his vision became tunneled, the desert around him disappearing when all that mattered stood hundreds of feet in front of him. The bright sun, high over the horizon in her direction, made it near impossible to see her face. But he knew that figure, recognized the ashy blonde hair that hung low and teased her lower back. That voice, he hadn't heard it in months. It was like seeing an angel in the light at the end of a tunnel, the one everyone sees right before they die. The same kind he'd seen hundreds of years before.

He started to sprint. Didn't realize it at first, actually, but then again his head was no longer in control. This kind of burning in his ribs, an aching, is what he wanted to soothe. An instinctual pain drove him, one that only eased with each step closer her took towards her. All the while, her calls to him kept the Reaper running with all his might. Nothing else mattered in the world, not Black Star's attempt to grab him from behind, not Kim's concerned question of why he was even sprinting in the first place. Because apparently they couldn't see her, standing right there on the sand dune.

Did that matter to him? Of course, he wasn't a fool. But they didn't understand that he couldn't turn away, couldn't pry his desperate eyes from the possibility of seeing her face one more time. Because he couldn't remember what she looked like. The smells, the sights, and sounds that all made up Maka, they'd become foreign to him. And the thought of her, with him, had become too much for Soul to bear. He needed this, no matter how painfully obvious it was to him that Maka wasn't there. Just one more time, he thought to himself. Then he'd be done.

And then when he got there, made his trek across the sands and in his frantic scramble, tripped and fell on his knees, the truth became much harder to swallow.

The blonde hair he swore he saw before was gone. Creamy skin was now replaced with red. And instead of a beautiful smile, only a chesire grin of razor blade teeth.

In a daze, Soul looked up at the creature before him. His eyes narrowed softly, with the pain and embarrassment of being duped by _him_ slowly starting to sink in. Meanwhile the not-so-little demon continued to stand over his prey and leer, his never-changing grin much more unnerving than in the past. This scene was one he'd always hoped for; with Soul bowing down to him. It was fitting then that the fire in his eyes was out, those leering red hues much duller since the last time they'd talked. How long ago was that? A few days? Or was it minutes?

In the end it didn't matter, because for months he'd been plaguing his mind. At night when he fell asleep, the demon would taunt him. In the morning when awoke, he'd be standing at the foot of Soul's bed, staring at him with that devilish sneer. Every time, he'd tempt the Reaper with power. The strength to kill Kidd and take back Maka, but not only that. What else could a Grim do with the power of Hell behind him? Take over the world? Destroy the world? Remake it? Not only as a god of death, but as God himself. Soul didn't want any of that, not even the power.

But it was the demon's job to convince him. "You know she's probably fucking him as we speak, right?"

"Shut up." Brows furrowed and teeth bore, the Reaper's comeback didn't have nearly the amount of bite as it used to.

"Of course, my mistake. Maka's much classier than that," the demon conceded, throwing up his hands. "I'm sure she's already long since passed!"

This time, the rumble in the back of Soul's throat was menacing. His eyes flashed crimson and the demon sneered. "Everything you say is bullshit. I won't listen to any of it."

His head cocked to the side, the horned man's taunting gaze only intensified. In response, Soul kept up his killer leer, in the hopes that he wouldn't have to deal with this bastard any longer. But he knew better and in the end, his defiance only made him feel better. Because no sooner had he come to this revelation, that the demon took a knee and brought his face up to Soul's. They matched expressions, both trying to size the other up, before the red-man made it plainly clear that nothing Soul did could throw him off his step.

"I already told you we're one in the same, boy. I'm the darkness in your heart; likewise, you're the darkness in mine." With a knowing smile, the demon made his case.

"There has to be light for there to be darkness, Maka taught me that." Soul countered as he rose to his knees, "What you are is evil. I'm nothing like you."

The demon raised a brow, genuinely surprised. "That's quite a grown up answer. Good show, then! All the more reason why I want your soul!"

As if he were an old friend, the demon grabbed Soul with one hand and patted his back with the other. An _almost_ genuine smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but the Reaper wasn't buying any of it. He stared his darkness down, not about to humor the demon any longer at his own expense. Despite this, there was nothing he could do to fight it, at least not with brute strength. There were other people there, Black Star and Kim. They couldn't see the demon. In fact, they didn't even know he existed. Soul wasn't about to let them find out any time soon, either.

So for the moment he put up with it. That disturbing sense of superiority, it was unnerving to him. The Reaper squirmed his shoulder free of his demon's grasp, as the latter let it happen. He still smiled, but it seemed to Soul that he was taking his sweet time in trying to corrupt him. Instead, something much more devious glistened in the bastard's eye. He had a secret, and if the white-reaper knew of one thing, it was that he wouldn't keep it for long. Sure enough, after a long pause of silence between them, the demon opened his mouth to let the words drip from his poisonous tongue.

"So it looks like you don't have to worry about Maka being dead, my boy~!" he teased, giggling with devilish delight.

Eyes narrowing, Soul bore his teeth. For some reason, it sounded like a threat to him, "What's that supposed to mean? Tell me-!"

"-Gah! So impatient!" the demon shot back out of mock annoyance. "I feel so bad for the girl, having to put up with more than one of you!"

"...Wait, what?" Caught off guard, Soul jerked his head to the side like a confused animal. His associate gave a wild sneer before clearing his throat.

"Congratulations, my boy. It's not every day one gets to become the father of a god, but I imagine that if it had to be anybody, Maka's glad that it was you."

Silence. Save for the desert wind, there was not a sound on that lonely patch of sand. Just Soul and the demon, the latter of whom beamed with child-like enthusiasm, while the former took what seemed like a whole minute to process what'd just been said. He was dumbstruck, unable to close his gaping mouth. Then a moment later, confusion turned violent when all of a sudden his red eyes flashed, and the crack of thunder rumbled through out the desert. The demon, not the least bit concerned, found himself on the dangerous end of a gold fringed scythe.

"**Shut your _fucking _mouth!**" the Reaper commanded, his face quickly turning a hue that matched the hellish man's skin.

He blinked innocently, "Wha-? Oh! Of course, you're under the impression that you're an infertile sack of shit who can't father any children, correct?"

"I'm tired of these fucking games, so stop messing with my head! Just _leave. **Me**_. **_ALONE!_**_"_ Soul desperately screamed back, almost reaching his breaking point.

"Eater, you're a sensitive one," the demon sighed. Not wanting to ruin a precious resource, he relented his assault. "But I am being serious. Maka is pregnant. You're the father."

Still not convinced, the third of Spartoi threw his weapon sideways to strike. Tired of all the stress and sleepless nights, he put all his weight into chopping the demon's head off. But to his shock and dismay, when the scythe went to claim its prey, the demon stopped it with a single hand. Blood, blacker than the city of Death, dripped superficially from his hand as he held blade a safe distance away from him. This time, the hell spawn was stony faced. His mood had grown serious, and as Soul quickly found out, his childlike banter was no more.

He was a far more terrifying creature than any sort of Reaper. "There are many things to say, and very little time left to say them. I expect you to listen."

Part of him still wanting to try another strike, Soul quickly decided it was futile. Instead, he took the calmer approach, "...I'll hear you, but that doesn't mean I'll listen."

"Whatever just pay attention," the demon warned, releasing his hold on the scythe. "Your child, who in six months time will be born, is destined to become the Grim to succeed the last."

Soul scoffed at the notion, but remained silent as he continued to listen. "Needless to say, all of Hell is a quiver about the whole thing. A new Grim is always a big deal, which is why I want to be the boy's sponsor..."

Still, the Reaper was mum. However, just looking at the excitement in his evil-half's face made him question whether or not the bastard was telling anything but lies. Of course, they obviously were; it went without saying that him fathering a child was almost laughable. Almost. But still, maybe this was just the demon trying to sway his judgment by twisting the truth a little bit. Maybe there was somebody else, somebody stronger, who was trying to take the mantle of power away from Kidd. Another Reaper, not born by him, but still very much alive and dangerous.

The only other person stupid enough to try was Giriko.

Immediately it went from Soul worrying about potential fatherhood to instead wanting to rip out his rival's throat single-handedly. That creep. He knew Free was fiercely loyal to Kidd and would never try to usurp him, but Giriko was a different story. He didn't want power, just the vehicle to do whatever he wanted with. He was childish, selfish, pretty much like how he himself used to be a hundred years ago. Except begrudgingly, Soul admitted under shallow breath that Giriko was number two for a reason. His power outmatched his in every single way.

"...So I have a proposition for you, if you're done thinking about Giriko," the demon chimed in, almost on cue as Soul started to go off on a tangent.

The white Reaper's head snapped to attention. Every move he made or thought about, it seemed like Hell was ten steps ahead of him. "W-What? What'd you say?"

"A deal, you thick-headed moron." Scowling, the demon took a few steps backwards. "For every third of your soul you relinquish to me, I will grant you power befitting a Grim."

"Why three? What are you, some kind of genie?" Raising a brow, Soul unwittingly added some levity to the conversation. The demon laughed, and for once it sounded actually genuine.

"Good things come in three. I want to change that. I want three to be a terrifying number, one that the desert won't forget for another thousand years. So how about it?"

With his trademark apathetic look, Soul grinned and in true fashion stated firmly, "You'd have better luck asking me once I'm dead and buried. And even then, I'll spit in your face."

The demon waved a finger in front of him, giving a '_tsk tsk'_ that annoyed Soul immensely. With his other hand, he grabbed the white Reaper by the arm and pulled him in close. Biting his tongue, Soul waited for his associate to say something even remotely annoying before punching him in the face. But instead of sarcasm or malice, the only thing carried on the demon's tongue was a crisp, chilled warning as he whispered into the man's ear. His breath burned Soul's skin like hell fire, reinforcing the words as they were etched painfully into the side of his skull.

"When Maka needs you the most. When the baby is just seconds from the precipice of death. I'll be here like I always am, ready to offer the solution to all your problems."

A cackling. A flash of chesire once more. Then nothing. The demon was gone, just like that, leaving Soul to stand in the sand dune by his lonesome and wonder exactly what was truth and what wasn't. He was being duped, that was true no matter what. Something, however, was going on that had the horned bastard very excited. It confounded him exactly as to what, but Soul figured all of that would come in due time. For now, he had other things to worry about. Maka was his main concern, meaning the top priority on his list was getting back to the Sun Grigori and...

..._Kim and Black star._

He'd forgotten about both of them.

In an instant, all the color drained from the Reaper's face when something told him to look behind him. Slowly he turned, and sure enough to his horror they were both there, wide-eyed and extremely confused. How long had they been there! To Soul's utter dismay, it was obvious that they'd seen _something._ As to what that something was, he was still nervous to find out. Could other people see the demon, or did all they see was him talking to open air for something like _ten minutes?_ Either way he was screwed, because now came the questions...

"...Soul?" Black Star asked quietly, utterly dumbfounded. "Who have you been talking to this whole time?"

Great. They thought he was crazy. "Yeah, uh, about that...Reapers are very lonely creatures. We talk to ourselves...a lot."

Kim seemed horrified by that answer. Maybe that wasn't the best choice. "So you randomly summon your scythe and scream at things?"

Definitely not the best choice. Unfortunately his friends weren't stupid, yet for some reason in his own stupid mind he thought lying to them would actually work. Instead, they looked at him like some kind of freak. Which wasn't untrue, he considered himself strange anyway. It's just that, in these past few months living with other people for a change, it was nice to feel like they could rely on him. He wanted to do the same, but nobody could do that when one of the party was running around the desert, throwing blade weapons around like grinning at no one in particular...

Holy shit, he really did sound crazy. And they seriously stuck with him for this long?

Soul took a long, hard look at his traveling companions. They did the same, though with a tad bit more wariness than they used to. And in that moment, the white Reaper came to revelation. That if he was going to change and really become a different person than before, then he needed to start acting like it. No more sneaking around, no more secrets, no more thinking only of himself. He could see it in their eyes; they were scared, not of him, but for him. They wanted what was best for him, so likewise Soul wanted to give them the same. They needed to know the truth.

So, very bluntly, he gave it to them. "Basically, a demon has been following me around for three months. He wants my soul. Every time I fall asleep he's there, saying things to me. When I wake up he's at the foot of my bed, grinning. Just now, he tricked me into thinking Maka was standing right here, even though I know she wasn't. He's fucking with me and honestly, it's slowly eating me up. I can't take it anymore."

Maybe that was more blunt than necessary, but it was like lifting the flood gates of a river. Once he opened up, it felt like he needed to get everything off his chest. He kept his cool though, even though his stomach was turning to knots under the stares of who he hoped were still his friends. They still looked at him funny and for a split second, he felt like he'd lost their support with that stupid little rant. But slowly, one of the two approached him. Immediately Soul became sick at the sight of him; the look on Black Star's face, it couldn't be put into words. Concerned. Hurt. Relieved?

He put his hand on Soul's shoulder. Looking him dead in the eyes, he muttered, "You can't be scaring us like that, buddy. Don't leave us in the fucking dark."

"I'm scared too," the Reaper admitted aloud. He surprised both himself and Black Star, but continued anyway, "There's half of me that wants to give it to him. I can't trust myself, Black Star. I want the power to kill Kidd."

"Yeah well, you're not going to!" Kim threw her comment in, marching up to them with a puffed up face of confidence. "Black Star and I will have your ass otherwise, right?"

The man nodded, not once breaking the stare with his friend, who likewise didn't want to look away. Quickly, the feeling of Kim's hand on his other shoulder gave Soul something that he hadn't felt in a long time, not since he and Maka had been together; comfort. It was like all this weight had dispersed between the three of them. None of it had disappeared completely. There was still an army of Reapers to worry about. Maka needed rescuing. A death god wanted them dead. But instead of keeping it all to himself like had intended to do, Soul finally discovered that maybe sharing in some of the hardship wasn't such a bad idea after all. He wanted to shelter them, though that was stupid considering what hardships they'd already been through.

"I'm surprised you guys believe me," Soul mused, almost chuckling to himself. "I mean, demons are hard things to swallow even for Reapers."

Black Star released his grip in order scratch the back of his head. "Well, between you, Kidd, and all the shit me and Kim have seen, it's not so hard to believe."

"Actually, I think both of you are insane." Kim deadpanned, drawing both their attention before smiling, "But it's my job to guide you two, so I guess I'll have to suck it up for now."

Soul and Black Star looked at each other before turning dual sarcastic looks at the pink-haired Grigori. She, however, was already turning around, chiming aloud how they'd already lost a lot of time. Not paying either man anymore attention, she marched off down the sand dune towards their destination. Ire-filled and with a slight bit of annoyance, the pair took off after her, though at a much slower pace. They figured it would be a while before she realized they were far behind, whereas she would stop to yell at them while they trotted along merrily to catch up. It would pass the time.

"Between you and me," Soul threw out there, almost casually as they walked. "The demon told me something else."

"Yeah, and what would that be?" Black Star shot back. He didn't seem too interested, seeing as how all demons were liars.

Soul, on the other hand, couldn't shake it out of his mind. "Apparently there's another Grim...and he said that I'm the kid's father."

Promptly, Black Star stopped his descent. Soul came to a halt right after him and immediately turned around to gauge the man's reaction. It wasn't the look he was excepting, then again, he wasn't sure what to expect. A sort of annoyance pulled at the muscles in his face, but there wasn't any anger to it at all. It's the look a disappointed father gives his child when they've done something bad. It was an ironic expression for an already tender subject, but Soul didn't call him out on it. Instead he waited for his friend to give the response he desperately wanted to hear.

"You honestly buy that? We both know you can't have kids."

That was it. Just like that, Black Star continued down the hill, passing his friend by in order to catch up with Kim. If it was anyone else, Soul might have been slightly hurt by just how blunt that comment was. But it was harsh for a reason. That was Black Star telling him to stop thinking about stupid shit and get on with the mission. There was no time to consider things that absolutely weren't true, and every second wasted was another moment without Maka. So shaking it off, Soul nodded and took off after his friend. They had a lot of ground to cover before nightfall.

The rest of the trip would be uneventful. The three of them would keep walking till the sun went down, then rest before completing their journey to the mountains the following day. Nobody would mention demons. For all intents and purposes, their whole conversation earlier in the day would be buried beneath exhaustion. Really, only Soul would have any thoughts as to what'd transpired and even then it had nothing to do with giving up his soul or defeating The Grim. It just had to do with that little part about possibly contributing something more to the world than just bloodshed. Maybe, there was a tiny chance that being a messenger of death wasn't what ended up defining him, when the day finally came when he was put six feet under once more.

He went to bed that night, for once without the demon's whispers.


End file.
